o to Higgins's for dinner to-day, did you?"

"No. Nor I shan't go for supper. Beriah's bad enough when he's got
nothin' the matter with him but dyspepsy. Now that his sufferin's are
complicated with elopements, I don't want to eat with him."

"Come and have supper with us."

"I guess not, thank you, Sim. I'll get some crackers and cheese and such
at the store. I--I ain't very hungry these days."

He turned his head and looked out of the window. Simeon fidgeted.

"Sol," he said, after a pause, "we'll be past Olive's by to-morrer
night."

No answer. Sim repeated his remark.

"I know it," was the short reply.

"Yes--yes, I s'posed you did, but--"

"Sim, don't bother me now. This is my last day here at the depot, and
I've got things to do."

"Your last day? Why, what--?"

Captain Sol told briefly of his resignation and of the coming of the new
depot master.

"But you givin' up your job!" gasped Phinney. "YOU! Why, what for?"

"For instance, I guess. I ain't dependent on the wages, and I'm sick of
the whole thing."

"But what'll you do?"

"Don't know."

"You--you won't leave town, will you? Lawsy mercy, I hope not!"

"Don't know. Maybe I'll know better by and by. I've got to think things
out. Run along now, like a good feller. Don't say nothin' about my
quittin'. All hands'll know it to-morrow, and that's soon enough."

Simeon departed, his brain in a whirl. Captain Solomon Berry no longer
depot master! The world must be coming to an end.

He remained at his work until supper time. During the meal he ate and
said so little that his wife wondered and asked questions. To avoid
answering them he hurried out. When he returned, about ten o'clock, he
was a changed man. His eyes shone and he fairly danced with excitement.

"Emeline!" he shouted, as he burst into the sitting room. "What do you
think? I've got the everlastin'est news to tell!"

"Good or bad?" asked the practical Mrs. Phinney.

"Good! So good that--There! let me tell you. When I left here I went
down to the store and hung around till the mail was sorted. Pat Starkey
was doin' the sortin', Beriah bein' too upsot by Gertie's gettin'
married to attend to anything. Pat called me to the mail window and
handed me a letter.

"'It's for Olive Edwards,' he says. 'She's been expectin' one for a
consider'ble spell, she told me, and maybe this is it. P'r'aps you'd
just as soon go round by her shop and leave it.'

"I took the letter and looked at it.