h, why--er--yes, there IS somethin' wrong.
That is to say, there ain't, and that's the wrong part of it. I
don't seem to have forgotten anything, that's the trouble."

His friend burst out laughing.

"I should scarcely call that a trouble," he said.

"Shouldn't you? No, I presume likely you wouldn't. But I never go
anywhere without forgettin' somethin', forgettin' to say somethin'
or do somethin' or bring somethin'. Never did in all my life. Now
here I am home again and I can't remember that I've forgot a single
thing. . . . Hum. . . . Well, I declare! I wonder what it means.
Maybe, it's a sign somethin's goin' to happen."

He said good night absent-mindedly. Grover laughed and walked away
to meet Ruth and her brother, who, with Barbara dancing ahead, were
coming along the sidewalk. He had gone but a little way when he
heard Mr. Winslow shouting his name.

"Major!" shouted Jed. "Major Grover! It's all right, Major, I
feel better now. I've found it. 'Twas the key. I left it in the
front door lock here when I went away this mornin'. I guess
there's nothin' unnatural about me, after all; guess nothin's goin'
to happen."

But something did and almost immediately. Jed, entering the outer
shop, closed the door and blundered on through that apartment and
the little shop adjoining until he came to his living-room beyond.
Then he fumbled about in the darkness for a lamp and matchbox. He
found the latter first, on the table where the lamp should have
been. Lighting one of the matches, he then found the lamp on a
chair directly in front of the door, where he had put it before
going away that morning, his idea in so doing being that it would
thus be easier to locate when he returned at night. Thanking his
lucky stars that he had not upset both chair and lamp in his
prowlings, Mr. Winslow lighted the latter. Then, with it in his
hand, he turned, to see the very man he and Major Grover had just
been discussing seated in the rocker in the corner of the room and
glaring at him malevolently.

Naturally, Jed was surprised. Naturally, also, being himself, he
showed his surprise in his own peculiar way. He did not start
violently, nor utter an exclamation. Instead he stood stock still,
returning Phineas Babbitt's glare with a steady, unwinking gaze.

It was the hardware dealer who spoke first. And that, by the way,
was precisely what he had not meant to do.

"Yes," he observed, with caustic sarcasm, "it