"The persimmons are off the place, sir. Mr. Glenarm

was very fond of the fruit."

I had never seen a persimmon before, but I was in a

mood for experiment. The frost-broken rind was certainly

forbidding, but the rich pulp brought a surprise

of joy to my palate. Bates watched me with respectful

satisfaction. His gravity was in no degree diminished

by the presence of a neat strip of flesh-colored court-plaster

over his right eye. A faint suggestion of arnica

hung in the air.

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"This is a quiet life," I remarked, wishing to give

him an opportunity to explain his encounter of the

morning.

"You are quite right, sir. As your grandfather used

to say, it's a place of peace."

"When nobody shoots at you through a window," I

suggested.

"Such a thing is likely to happen to any gentleman,"

he replied, "but not likely to happen more than once, if

you'll allow the philosophy."

He did not refer to his encounter with the caretaker,

and I resolved to keep my knowledge of it to myself. I

always prefer to let a rascal hang himself, and here was

a case, I reasoned, where, if Bates were disloyal to the

duties Pickering had imposed upon him, the fact of his

perfidy was bound to disclose itself eventually. Glancing

around at him when he was off guard I surprised

a look of utter dejection upon his face as he stood with

folded arms behind my chair.

He flushed and started, then put his hand to his forehead.

"I met with a slight accident this morning, sir. The

hickory's very tough, sir. A piece of wood flew up and

struck me."

"Too bad!" I said with sympathy. "You'd better

rest a bit this afternoon."

"Thank you, sir; but it's a small matter,-only, you

might think it a trifle disfiguring."

He struck a match for my cigarette, and I left without

looking at him again. But as I crossed the threshold

of the library I formulated this note: "Bates is a

liar, for one thing, and a person with active enemies for

another; watch him."

All things considered, the day was passing well

enough. I picked up a book, and threw myself on a comfortable

divan to smoke and reflect before continuing my

explorations. As I lay there, Bates brought me a telegram,

a reply to my message to Pickering. It read: "Yours announcing arrival received and filed."

It was certainly a queer business, my errand to Glenarm.

I lay for a couple of hours dreaming, and counted

the candles in the great crystal chandelier until my eyes

ached. Then I rose, took my cap, and was soon tramping

off toward the lake.

There were several small boats and a naphtha launch

in the boat-house. I dropped a canoe into the water and

paddled off toward the summer colony, whose gables and

chimneys were plainly visible from the Glenarm shore.




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