ness, retracing the endless trail to
Niggertown. As he passed a dark mass of shrubbery and trees, he recalled
his mother's advice to ask aid of Captain Renfrew. It was the old
Renfrew place that Peter was passing.

The negro hesitated, then turned in at the gate in the bare hope of
obtaining the ten dollars at once. Inside the gate Peter's feet
encountered the scattered bricks of an old walk. The negro stood and
called Captain Renfrew's name in a guarded voice. He was not at all sure
of his action.

Peter had called twice and was just about to go when a lamp appeared
around the side of the house on a long portico that extended clear
around the building. Bathed in the light of the lamp which he held over
his head, there appeared an old man wearing a worn dressing gown.

"Who is it?" he asked in a wavery voice.

Peter told his name and mission.

The old Captain continued holding up his light.

"Oh, Peter Siner; Caroline Siner's sick? All right I'll have Jallup run
over; I'll phone him."

Peter was beginning his thanks preparatory to going, when the old man
interrupted.

"No, just stay here until Jallup comes by in his or He'll pick us both
up. It'll save time. Come on inside. What's the matter with old
Caroline?"

The old dressing-gown led the way around the continuous piazza, to a
room that stood open and brightly lighted on the north face of the old
house.

A great relief came to Peter at this unexpected succor. He followed
around the piazza, trying to describe Caroline's symptoms. The room
Peter entered was a library, a rather stately old room, lined with books
all around the walls to about as high as a man could reach. Spaces for
doors and windows were let in among the book-cases. The volumes
themselves seemed composed mainly of histories and old-fashioned
scientific books, if Peter could judge from a certain severity of their
bindings. On a big library table burned a gasolene-lamp, which threw a
brilliant whiteness all over the room. The table was piled with books
and periodicals. Books and papers were heaped on every chair in the
study except a deep Morris chair in which the old Captain had been
sitting. A big meridional globe, about two and a half feet in diameter,
gleamed through a film of dust in the embrasure of a window. The whole
room had the womanless look of a bachelor's quarters, and was flavored
with tobacco and just a hint of whisky.

Old Captain Renfrew evidently had been reading when Pete