A man was sitting at a desk, but he evidently did
not hear, so Rupert stepped into the room, at the same time giving the
door another loud rap. Still the man did not hear.

"Good morning, sir," said Rupert.

The man turned.

"Volmer, Volmer Holm, is it you?"

"Rupert Ames, I'm pleased to see you. When did you come to town? Have a
chair."

"Are you in the real estate business?"

"I can't hear very well, and you'll have to speak at close range, Rupe."

So they put their chairs close together, and Rupert repeated his last
question.

"Yes, a man must do something; but there's nothing going on now--nothing
in our line."

Rupert looked in pity at his friend. Quite shabbily dressed he was, and
a careworn expression on his face made him look ten years older. He wore
glasses, which he pushed up on his forehead, and then took a good look
at Rupert.

"Well, well, Rupe, and where have you been keeping yourself? An' I've
had luck, I tell you--you haven't heard, perhaps?"

"No; I haven't. What's it been, Volmer?"

"Was getting fifty dollars a week leading the orchestra at the Grand in
Chicago, when I got sick. Don't know what it was, Rupe--the doctors
didn't know. Got into my ears, and that knocked me--couldn't tell one
note from another; so, of course, that let me out. Hard luck, Rupe, hard
luck. Tough world this, Rupe. Why God Almighty crams a fellow's head
full of music, and then disables him so's he can't make use of it, I
don't know--I don't know."

Rupert sympathized with his friend, and then told him of his errand. A
ray of sunshine seemed to enter the musician's life. The property was
for sale, yes, and cheap, dirt cheap; so the transaction was partly
arranged, and Volmer Holm went home to his wife and four children with
quite a happy heart that day.

"It's too bad about Volmer Holm," said Rupert to his sister. "I had not
heard of his misfortune. Such a genius in music, too."

"Well, I don't know," answered Nina, "it may be all for the best. Rumor
had it that he was fast getting into bad ways in Chicago; and some men
are better off by being poor, anyway."

"Yes, that's so," was all he said.

* * * * *

Rupert Ames was again the owner of Dry Bench farm, and the next spring
they moved into the old home. Mr. and Mrs. Janson came with them to
visit, but their interests in Chamogo would not allow of a protracted
stay. Signe was already in love with her new home. With her taste