lter, Ma."

"I don't see! I don't understand anything about it," repeated the woman
helplessly.

"Well, you will by and by. It is a long story--too long to tell now.
When we get home you shall hear it from beginning to end. But now----
Gee whizz! There goes Martin making for the pond! I'll head him off."

Away went Carl across the velvet lawn and with an unsatisfied air Mrs.
McGregor wheeled about to collect Nell and Tim, who were already
tugging at her skirts. She felt as if the events of the past half-hour
were a dream. Carl, her harum-scarum son, the catastrophe worker of the
family, was the acknowledged friend of Mr. John Coulter, one of the
richest and most revered citizens of Baileyville. And more than that he
appeared to possess the influence to have men removed from their jobs
and discharged employees reinstated in lost positions. He even had
power to have people's salaries raised. Would wonders never cease?

CHAPTER XIX

UNRAVELING THE SNARLS

How late the McGregors sat up talking that night it would have been
alarming to confess. It was so late that the streets became silent and
deserted and conversation had to be conducted in whispers lest it
arouse the O'Dowds, Sullivans, and Murphys.

And what tense, eager whispers they were!

Mrs. McGregor, her bonnet still in her lap, sat on the edge of a chair
too engrossed to so much as think of the shrimp pink tulle dress she
had planned to finish before she went to bed that night; nor did she,
in her usual methodical manner, take time to slip out of her best skirt
or put away her company shoes and gloves. She was far too excited for
that.

Happy, tumbled, and nodding the babies had been put to sleep and
afterward their elders, joined by Hal and Louise Harling, huddled in
the kitchen, closed the doors, and talked and talked. Every detail of
Carl's amazing story had to be told over and over again that his
listeners might enjoy to the full the marvel and humor of each
successive event. Everything was clear as crystal now--Corcoran's
transfer, Louise's reinstatement, Hal's increasing salary, the
Christmas dinners. Even the conundrum of the watch remained an enigma
no longer.

"It was, of course, Mr. Coulter who told Corcoran about your rescuing
his baby," Carl explained to his chum. "I remember that I happened to
mention the accident to him."

Hal nodded.

"But the thing I don't understand," he said with a puzzled air, "is how
you could go to that