"You see, Albert," she hesitatingly explained, "Laban--Mr. Keeler--the
man who drove you down from the depot--he--he's an awful nice man and
your grandfather thinks the world and all of him, but--but every once in
a while he--Oh, dear, I don't know how to say it to you, but--"

Evidently Mrs. Ellis knew how to say it, for she broke into the
conversation and said it then and there.

"Every once in a while he gets tipsy," she snapped. "And I only wish I
had my fingers this minute in the hair of the scamp that gave him the
liquor."

A light broke upon Albert's mind. "Oh! Oh, yes!" he exclaimed. "I
thought he acted a little queer, and once I thought I smelt--Oh, that
was why he was eating the peppermints!"

Mrs. Snow nodded. There was a moment of silence. Suddenly the
housekeeper, who had resumed her seat in compliance with Captain
Zelotes' order, slammed back her chair and stood up.

"I've hated the smell of peppermint for twenty-two year," she declared,
and went out into the kitchen. Albert, looking after her, felt his
grandmother's touch upon his sleeve.

"I wouldn't say any more about it before her," she whispered. "She's
awful sensitive."

Why in the world the housekeeper should be particularly sensitive
because the man who had driven him from the station ate peppermint was