"Well--well--" he stammered, "I see him, and I says--"

"You see him! Where did you see him? Kenelm Parker, I don't believe you
was at the postoffice at all. You was at the clubroom, that's where you
was. At that clubroom, smokin' and playin' cards with that deprivated
crowd of loafers and gamblers. Tell me the truth, now, wasn't you?"

Mr. Parker's tie fell off then, but neither he nor his sister noticed
it.

"Gamblers!" he snorted. "There ain't no gamblers there. Playin' a hand
or two of Californy Jack just for fun ain't gamblin'. I wouldn't gamble,
not for a million dollars."

Captain Obed laughed. "Neither would I," he observed. "Nor for two
cents, with that clubroom gang; 'twould be too much nerve strain
collectin' my winnin's. I see now why you come by the Barnes' house,
Kenelm. It's the nighest way home from that clubhouse. Well, I'm glad
you did. Mrs. Barnes and Miss Howes would have had a long session in the
dark if you hadn't. Yes, and a night at Darius Holt's hotel, which would
have been a heap worse. So you've been livin' at South Middleboro, Mrs.
Barnes, have you? Does Miss Howes live there, too?"

Thankful, very grateful for the change of topic, told of her life since
her husband's death, of her long stay with Mrs. Pearson, of Emily's
teaching school, and their trip aboard the depot-wagon.

"Well," exclaimed Miss Parker, when she had finished, "you have been
through enough, I should say! A reg'lar story-book adventure, ain't it?
Lost in a storm and shut up in an empty house, the one you come purpose