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9 SEVEN OS BY CARL DERR BIOOERS Ceeynght. 1013. by the Bobbt-M.rrill Campany The Story by Chapters. Chapter I.?"Weep No More, My Lady." Chapter II.?Alone on Baldpate Mountain. Chapter III.?The Crack of a Piatol. Chapter lv.?Blord? and Suffra? gettes. Chapter V.?A Professional Her? mit Appear i Chapter VI.?"From Tears to Smilee." Chapter VII ?The Mayor Casta a Chadow Before. Chapter V.M. ?Ghost a of the Bummer Crowd. Chapter IX.?The Mayo.- Begins a Vigil. Chapter X.?Mr. Max Tells a Tale of Buspicior Chapter XI.?roalodramn In the Snow. Chapter XII.?The Cold Gray Chapter XIII.?The Quest of the Hermit. Chapter XIV.?A Falsehood Un? der the Palms. Chapter XV.?Woe In Number Savon. Chapter XVI. ? The Exquieite Mr. Heyden. Chapter XVII.?The Open Win dow. Chapter XVIII.?Table Talk. Chapter XIX?A Man Prom the Dork. Chapter XX. ?The Profoaaor Suma Up. Chapter XXI.?"In the Name of the Law.** Chapter XXII?"I Wanted Moat ?to Die." Chapter XXIII.? Exeunt Omnoa. Chapter XXIV.? Miaa Evelyn Rhodes, Reporter. Chapter XXV?The Mayor Wei eemed Homo. Chapter XXVI. ?The Uaual Thing. CHAPTER I. "Weep no more, my lady.** YOUXO woman wa.i crying bit? terly in the waiting room of the ruilwuy statluu at L'rper Asquewan Falls, N. Y A beautiful young woman? That is exactly what lly Mngeo wanted to know ss. closing the waiting room dooi oehind him. he stood statin;: Just Inside, Were the features against which that frail bit of cambric was ngoulxlugly pressed of a pleasing con? tour? The girl's neutly tailored cordu? roy suit and her tlippunt but charming millinery augured well. Should he step gallantly forward ami inquire in sympathetic tones as to the cause of her woe? Should he carry chivalry even to the lengths of Vppor Asque wsu FaIUV No; Mr. Mugcc decided he would not. The train that had Just routed away Into the dusk had not brought him from the regloi, of skyscrapers and derby lint* for dee;Is of kaight errant ry up stute. Anyhow the girls tears were none of his business. A railway station wus .1 natural phiee f<>r grief? a field of many partings, upon whose Moor fell often In torrents the tears of thoxe left U'luml. A friend, mayhap a lover, had been whisked off Into the night by the relentless f? :U local. Why not a lover? Surely about such a daiu ty. trim figure as this ?ourtbus hover sd as moths about c. Maine ['pon a ! tender lutiuiate sorrow it wns not the pluce of mi unknown Ma gee t-? Intrude. De put bis hand gently upon the latch of the door. And yet dim and heartless and cold wss the Interior of that waiting room. No place surely for a font lemnn to leave a lady s.?rr?wful. parth ularl.\ when the lady was so ulluring. Oil, beyond ouestlon she was most allur log. Mr. Mugi*e stepped softly to the ticket window and insd ? low voiced Inquiry of the man Inside "What's slu> rrj lug about 7" lie asked ?Thanks." said the lie!-:.* agent. "I get asked tin* same old questions so Often one like yours sort of breaks the monotony. Sorry 1 can't help you. Klo-'s a woman, and the I.onl only knows ?vhy women cry. And some? times I reckon even he must be a lit? tle puzr.hd. Now, my \ it'e" "I tblnk I II ask her." < onthlcd Mr Mugoo In n Imar.-o* w hKpcr. "Oh, I wouldn't." mhised the man liehind the bars. "It's host to let 'em alone. They stop quicker If they ain't noticed " ??Hut she's In trouble," nrgih-d IMIly Mngee ??And so'H fen Im? most likely." re a|M)iid^d the cynic, *|f you Interfere. No, alive! Take my advice. Shoot old Aaquownn's rapids In a barrel If you want to but kt ep a\\a\ from cry fiiaf women " Mr M'.Jte, npproaching, ihought himself ngain In the colleirs rgf?1 at dusk, with the . r. it e!m . i ' t >>\ er hem I and the ffeedj youm: (rotcee f the glee rlnb ringing out from 111 ? - Steps KEYS TO 5ALDPATE of a century oil building. What were the ?vords they sang so ninny times? Weep no more, my )n<ly. Oh, weep no more today! He regret ted that ho could not make use of them. Hut troubadours, ho kuew, went out of fashion long before railway stations came in. So his re? mark to the young woman was not at all melodious: "Can I do anything?" A portion of the handkerchief was removed and an eye which, Mr. Magee noted, was of an admirable blue, peep? ed out at him. To the gaze of even a solitary eye Mr. Mngee's aspect was decidedly pleasing. Mr. Magee thought he read approval in the lone eye of blue. When tho lady spoke, however, he hastily revised his opinion. "Yes." she said, "you can do some? thing. You can go away?far, far away." Mr. Magee stiffened. Thus chivalry fared 'n Upper Asquewan Falls In the year 1011. "I beg your pardon," he remarked. "You seemed to be in trouble, and I thought I might possibly be of some assistance." The girl removed the entire handker? chief. The other eye proved to be the same admirable blue?a blue halfway between the shade of her corduroy suit and that of the jacky's costume in the "See the World?Join the Navy" poster that served as backgronud to her woe. "I don't mean to be rude," sho ex? plained more gently, "but?I'm crying, you see, and a girl simply can't look attractive when sue cries." "If 1 had only >een regularly intro? duced to you and all that," responded Mr. Magee, "1 could make a very flattering reply." And I true one, he added to himself, for even in the faint tllekering light of the station he found ample reason for rejoh ing that the bit of cambric was no longer agonizingly pressed. Aj yet he had scarcely look? ed away from her eyes, but he was dimly aware that up above wisps of golden hair peeped impudently from beneath a siiue> >lack hat. "My grief," said the girl, "is utterly silly ahd-womuuish. I think it would be best to leave me alone with it. Thank you for your interest. And? would you mind asking the gentleman who is pressing his face so feverishly against the bars to kindly close his window'/" "Certainly," replied Mr. Magoe. He turned away. As he did so he collided with a rather ex< essive lady. She gave the impression of solidity and bulk. Her mouth was hard and know? ing. Mr. Mngee felt that she wanted to vote ami that she would say as much from time to time. The lad: "I wmm crying, mnmrno,'' the girl ex? plained. bad a glittering eye. she put it to its Ulli? honored use and lixed Mr. Magee u Ith it. "I \\;is trying, mamma." the girl ex nlnlnetf, ".-Mid this guitieman Inquired it ho could be of Miy <?<i \ ire." M inima: Mr liege? wanted to add his lean to Ibone of the girl. This Hail :i nd kirely damsel in distress owning hi bef nutternul parent a bei v y miiMK vm in y iternou! "Well, Ihej ain't no use get tin' all werket] up fur nothing/* advised the I? ipltttttnill |Ntr?nt. Mr Magee was nvrprbied thai in h nf tone there was no ho.tilil;. to him thus belying her * Mi'bbe the gtMltkHUnil ean di reel us !?? n gooil hotel." she nddedi with a lei !>? . itUgy smile. ????-a ? a mm "I'm a ttrangor hero, too," Mr. Ma? gee replied. "1*11 interview the mail over there in the cage." The gent Ionian referred to was not cheerful in Iis replies, 'liiere was, he .said, Bulttpute inn. "Oh, yes, l'aidpate inn," repeated Lilly Mugee with interest. ? Yes, that's a pretty swell place/' said the ticket agent. "But it ain't open now. It's a summer resort. There ain't no place open now, hut the Commercial House. And I wouldn't) recommend no human being there?es? pecially no lady who was sad before she ever saw it." Mr. Magee explained to the Incon? gruous family pair waiting on the bench. There's only one hotel," he said, "ami I'm told It's not exactly the place for any one whoso outlook on life is not rosy tit the moment. I'm sorry." 'it will do very well," answered the girl, "whatever it is." She smiled at Billy Magee. "My outlook on lifo in Vppor Asquewan rails," she said, "grows rosier every minute. We must lind a cab." Sin; l*\gau to gather up her traveling bags, and Mr. Magee hastened to as? sist. The three went out on the sta? tion platform, upon which lay a thin carpet of snowfhukes. There the older woman, in a harsh rasping voice, found fault with Upper Asquewan Tails?its geography, its public spirit, Its brand of weather. A dejected cab at the end of the platform stood mourning its lonely lot. In it Mr. Ma? gee placed the large lady and the hags. Then, while the driver climbed to his seat he spoke into the invisible cur of the girl. 4,You haven't told me why you cried," he reminded her. ''Upper Asquewan Falls," she said, "Isn't it reason enough ?" Hilly Magee looked; saw a row of gloomy buildings that seemed to list as the wind blew, a blurred sign, "Liquor and Clguk*." a Street that stag? gered away into the dark like a man who had lingered too long at the emporium hack of the sign. "Are you doomed to stay here long?" ho asked. "Come on, Mary," cried a deep voice from the cab. "Get in and shut the door. I'm freezing." 'it ull depends," said the girl. "Thank you for being so kind and? good night." The door closed with a rauflled bang, the cab creaked wearily away and Mr. Magee turned back to the dim waiting room. "Wrll, what was she crying for?" Inquired the ticket agent when Mr. Magee stood again at his cell window. "She didn't think much of your town," responded Magee. "She inti? mated that it made her heavy of heart." "H'm! It ain't much of a place." ad? mitted the man, "though it ain't the general rule with visitors to burst into teura at sight of it. Yes, Upper As? quewan is slow, and no mistake. It gets on my nerves sometimes. Noth? ing to do but work, work, work, and then lay dowu and wait lor tomorrow. I used to think maybe some day they'd transfer me down to Hoo*>orstown? there's moving pictures and such go? ings on down there. But the railroad never notices you?unless you go wrong. Yes, sir; sometimes I wunt to clear out of this towu myself." "A natural wanderlust," sympathiz? ed Mr. Magee. "You said something just now about ttaldpate inn"? "Yes; it's a little more lively in sum? mer, when that's open." answered the agent. "We get a lot of complaints BbOUt trunks not coming from pretty swell people too. It sort of cheers things." His eye roamed with inter? est over Mr. Magee's New York attire. "Hut l'aidpate inn is shut up tight now. This is nothing hut an umiex to it graveyard In winter. You wasn't thinking of stopping off here, was you?" "Well, I want to see a man named Elijah Qulmby." Mr. Magee replied. "Do you know him7" "Of course.*' said the yearner for postures new. "He's caretaker of the inn. His house is about a mile out on the old Miller road that leads up l'aid? pate. Come outside and I'll tell you how to get there." The two men went out into the whirl? ing snow, ami tin* agent waved a bund Indefinitely up at the night. "if it was clear," he said, "you could see Baldpate mountain over yonder looking down on the falls, sort of keep? ing an eye on us to make sure we don't get reckless. And halfway up you'd see Baldpate inn, black and peaceful and wintery. Just follow this street t<> the third coruor and turn to your left. Elijah lives in a little house back among the trees a mile out. There's st gate you'll sure hear creak? ing on a night like this." Hilly Mugee thanked him and. gath? ering up his two bags, walked up Main street. A dreary, forbidding building at the first Corner bore the sign "Commercial House." Weep ti<> more, my lady, oh, weep no more today! hummed Mr. Magee cynically under his breath ami gin need up at the soli? tary upstairs window that gleamed yellow in the lllghl. At a comer on which stood a little shop that advertised ''Groceries and |*roi IsioltS" he paused. "Lei me see." he pondered. "The lights will be turned off. of course. Candles and a little something for the inner man in case it's the dosed sea? son for cooks." He went Inside, whom a weary old woman st n ed him. "What sort of randiest*1 she hi quired, with the air of one who had an infinite nirlct* in stock. Mr. Ma? gee remembered that Christinas was near. "For a Christmas Ire?'." he explain ed. Ile itxkcd for two liuudied. "I've uul) go| forty," the woman said. "What's tins tree for? the Or? phans' htone?" With the added burden of n package containing his purchases in the liny store Mr. Magee emerged and contin? ued his journey through the stinging snow. "Don Quixote, my boy," he mutter? ed. "I know bow yoU felt when you moved on the windmills." It was not the whir of windmills, 'but the creak of a gate In the storm that brought Mr. Magee at last to a stop. He walked gladly up the path to Elijah Quimby's door. In answer to Billy Magee's gay knock, a man of about sixty years ap? peared. Evidently he had just finish? ed supper. At the moment he was engaged in lighting Iiis pipe. lie ad? mitted Mr. Magee into the intimacy of the kitchen, and took a number of calm judicious puffs on the pipe be? fore speaking to Ids visitor. "My name's Magee," blithely ex? plained that gentleman, dragging in his bugs. "And you're Elijah Quiruby, of course. How are you? Glad to see you." The older man did not reply, but regarded Mr. Magee wonderingly through white puffs of smoke. His face was kindly, gentle, Ineffectual. ' "Yes," he admitted at last. "Yes, I'm Quimby." Mr. Magee threw back his coat, and sprayed with snow Mrs. Quimby's im? maculate floor. "I'm Magee," he elucidated again. "William Hullowoll Magee, the man Hal Bentley wrote to you about. You got his letter, didn't you7" Mr. Quimby removed his pipe and forgot to close the aperture as he stared in amazement. "Good Lord," he cried; "you don't mean?you've really come? Why, we ?we thought it was all a joke!" ?'Hal Bentley has his humorous mo? ments," agreed Mr. Magee, "but it isn't his habit to Hing his jests Into Upper Asquewau Falls." "And?and you're really going to"? Mr. Quimby could get no further. "Y'es," said Mr. Magee brightly, slip? ping into a locking chair. "Yes; I'm going to spend the next few mouths at Baldpate inn." "It's closed," expostulated Mr. Quim? by. "The inn is closed, young fellow." "I know it's closed," smiled Magee. "That's the very reason I'm going to honor it with my presence. I'm sorry to take you out on a night like this, but I'll have to ask you to lead me up to Baldpate. I believe those were Hal Bentley's instructions?in the letter." Mr. Quimby towered above Mr. Ma? gee, a shirt sleeved statue of honest American manhood. He scowled. "Excuse a plain question, youug man," he said, "but what are you hid? ing from?" "I'm not hiding," said Magee. "Didn't Bentley explain? Well, I'll try to, though I'm not sure you'll understand. Sit down, Mr. Quimby. You are not, 1 take it, the sort of man to follow close? ly the frivolous literature of the day." "What's that?" Inquired Mr. Quimby. "You don't read," continued Mr. Ma? gee, "the sort of novels that are sold by the pound in the department stores. Now, if you had a daughter?a Huffy daughter inseparable from a hammock in the summer?she could help me ex? plain. You see?I write those novels. Wild thrilling tales for the tired busi? ness man's tired wife?shots in the night, chases after fortunes, Cupid busy with his arrows all over the place! It's good fun, and 1 like to do it. There's money in it." "Is there?" asked Mr. Quimby, With a show of interest. "Considerable," replied Mr. Magee. "But now and then 1 get a longing to do something that will make the critics sit up- the real thing, you know. The other day I picked up a newapaperand found my latest brain child advertised as 'the best fall uovel Mngee ever wrote.' It got on my nerves. I felt like a literary dressmaker, and I could see my public laying down my fall novel and sighing for my early spring styles in Action. I remembered that once upon a time a critic advised me to go away for ten years to some quiet spot and think. 1 decided to do It Baldpate inn is the quiet spot." "You don't mean." gasped Mr. Quim? by, "that you're going to stay there ten years?" "Bless you, no!" Bald Mr. Magee. "Critics exaggerate. Two months will do. They say I am a cheap melo? dramatic ranter. They say I don't go deep, They say my thinking process is a scream. I'm afraid they're right. Xow, I'm going to go up to Baldpate inn and think. I'm going to get away from melodrama. I'm going to do a novel so line and literary that Henry Cabot Lodge will conn? to me with tears in his eyes and ask me to Join his ifhnch of self made immortals. I'm going to do all this up there at the inn. sitting on the mountain and look? ing down on this little old world as .love looked down from Olympus." "I don't know who you mean," ob? jected Mr. Quimby. "He was a god the god of the fruit stand men." explained Magee. "Pic? ture nie. if you can, depressed by the overwhelming success of my latest brain child. Picture me meeting Hal Bentley In a Forty-fourth street club and asking him for the location of the lonesomest spot on earth. Hal though! a minute. 'I've got it,' he said, 'the lonesomest spot that's happened to date is a summer resort in midwinter. It makes Crusoe's island look like Coney on a warm Sunday afternoon iti comparison.' The talk (lowed on along with other things. Hal told me his fa? ther owned Bit Id pate inn and that you were an old friend of his, who would be happy for the entire winter over the chance to serve him. lie happened to hiVe a key to the place the key to the big front door, I guess, from the Weight of it and he gave it to me. lie also wrote you to look alter me. So here 1 am." I I CHAPTER II. Alono on Baldpate Mountain. uJrw^V iIS ain't exactly?regular,** I Mr. Quimby protested. "No, I it ain't what you might rail a frequent occurrence. 1 m glad to do anything 1 can for young Mr. Bentley, but l can't help wonder? ing what Ids father will say. And there's a lot of things you haven't took into consideration." I "There certainly is, young man," re j marked Mrs. Quimby, bustling for? ward. "How are you going to keep j warm in that big barn of a place?" "The suits on the second floor," said Mr. Magee, "are, I hear, equipped with fireplaces. Mr. Quimby will keep me supplied with fuel from the forest pri-, meval, for which service he will re? ceive $20 a week." "And light?" asked Mrs. Quimby. "For the present, candles. I have I forty in that package. Later, perhaps, ! you csn find me an oil lamp. Ob, ev | erything will be provided for." I "Well," remarked Mr. Quimby, look? ing in a dazed fashion at his wife. I "lil reckon 1 11 have to talk it over j with ma." The two retired to the next room, and Mr. Magee Axed his eyes on a ' I "God Bless Our Home" motto while he awaited their return. Presently they j reappeared. "Was you thinking of eating?" in? quired Mrs. Quimby sarcastically, "while you stayed up there?" "I certainly was," smiled Mr. Magee. "For the most part I will prepare my own meals from cans and?er?jars? ; aud such pagan sources. But now and then you, Mrs. Quimby, are going to j j send me something cooked as no other I woman in the county can cook it. I j can see it in your eyes. In my poor > way I shall try to repay you." He continued to smile into Mrs. Quimby*! broad, cheerful face. Mr. I Mageo had the type of smile that moves men to part with ten until Sat? urday and women to close their eyes and dream of Sir Launcelot. "It's all fixed," he cried. "We'll get on splendidly. And now?for Baldpate Inn." "Not just yet," said Mrs. Quimby. "I ain't one to let auybody go up to Baldgate inn unfed. I 'spose we're sort o' responsible for you while you're up here. You just set right down and I'll have your supper hot and smok? ing on the table in no time." Mr. Magee entered into no dispute on this point, and for half an hour he was the pleased recipient of advice, philosophy aud food. When he had assured Mrs. Quimby that he had eat? en enough to last him the entire two months he intended spending at the inn Mr. Quimby came in, attired In a huge ! "before the war" ulster and carrying a lighted lantern. "So you're going to sit up there and write things," he commeuted. "W7ell, I reckon you'll be left to yourself, all right." "I hope so," responded Mr. Magee. "I want to be so lonesome I'll sob myself to sleep every night. It's the only road to immortality. Goodby, Mrs. Quimby. In my fortress on the mountain 1 shall expect an occasional culinary message from you." He took her plump hand. This motherly little woman seemed the last link binding him to the world of reality. "Goodby," smiled Mrs. Quimby. "Be careful of matches." Mr. Quimby led the way with the lantern, and presently they stepped out upon the road. "By the way, Quimby," remarked Mr. Magee, "is there a girl in your town who has blue eyes, light hair and the general air of a queen out shopping?" "Light hair!" repeated Quimby. "There's Sally Perry. She teaches in the Methodist Sunday school." "No," said Mr. Magee. "My de? scription was poor, I'm afraid. Thus one I refer to, when she weeps, gives the general effect of mist on the sea at dawn. The Methodists do not mo? nopolize her." "I read books, and I read newspa? pers," said Mr. Quimby, "but a lot of your talk I don't understand." "The critics," replied Billy Magee, "could explain. My stuff is only for low brows. Load on, Mr. Quimby." Baldpate inn did not stand tiptoe on the misty mountain top. Instead it clung with grim determination to the side of Baldpate, about halfway up, much as a city man clings to the run? ning board of an open street car. This was the comparison Mr. Magee made, ! and even as he made it he knew that atmospheric ? onditions rendered it ! questionable. For an open street car suggests summer and the hall park; Baldpate inn, as it shouldered darkly I into Mr. Magce's ken, suggested win? ter at its most wintry. | About the great black shape that was the inn, like arms, stretched broad verandas. Mr. Magee remarked j upon them to his companion. "Those porches and balconies and things." he said, "will come in handy in cooling the fevered brow of genius." "There ain't much fever in this local-' I ity," the practical Quimby assured him, "especially not in winter." Silenced. Mr. Magee followed the lantern of Quimby over the snow to the broad steps, and up to the great front door. There Mageo produced from beneath his coat an Impressive key. Mr Quimby made as though to assist, but was waved aside. "This is a ceremony," Mr. Magee told him. "some day Sunday newspa? per stories will be written about it. Baldpate inn opening its doors to the great American novel:" He placed the key in the lock, turned it, ami the door swung open. The , coldest blast ol air Mr. Magee had ever encountered swept out from the dark Interior. "Whew." he cried, "we've discover? ed another pole'" i "it's stale air." remarked Qulmbv. "You moan the polar atmosphere,'* replied Magee. "Yes, it is pretty Btale. .lack London and Dr. Cook have worked it to death." "1 mean." said Quimby, "this air hns been in here alone too long. It's as atale as last week's newspaper. We couldn't heat it with a million fires. We'll have to let in some warm air from outside first." "Warm air?humph!" remarked Mr. Magee. "Well, live and learn." The two stood together in a great bare room. When thoy stepped for? ward the sound of their shoes on the hard wood seemed the boom that should wake the dead. "This is the hotel office," explainea Mr. Quimby. At the left of the door was the clerk's desk. Behind it loomed a great safe and a series of pigeonholes for the mail of the guests. Opposite the front door a wide stairway led to a landing halfway up, where the stairs were divorced and went to the right and left in search of the floor above. Mr. Magee surveyed the stairway crit? ically. "A great place," he remarked, "to show off the talents of your dressmak? er, eh, Quimby? Can't you just see "I wouldn't wander rouod none/' he ad? vised. "You might loll down some? thing?or something,'' the stunning gowns coning down that stair in state and the young men be? low here agitated in their bosoms?" I "No, I cant," said Mr. Quimby frankly. "I can t either to taH the truth," laughed Billy Magee. He turned up his collar. "It's like picturing a sum? mer girl sitting on an iceberg and swinging her openwork hosiery over the edge. I don't suppose it's neces? sary to register. I'll go right up and select my apartments." It was upon a suit of rooms that bore the number seven on their door that Mr. Magee's choice fell. A large parlor with a lireplace that a few blazing logs would cheer, a bedroom, whose bed was destitute of all save mattress and springs, and a bathroom comprised his kingdom. Mr. Magee inspected i.is apartment. The windows were all of the low French variety and opened out upon a broad snow covered l ilcony which was in reality the roo" of the tirst j floor veranda. On this balcony Magee j stood a moment, watching the trees on I Baldpate wave their black arms in the wind and the lights of Upper Asque? wau Falls wink knowing'v up at him. I Then lie came inside, and his investi? gations brought him preseutly to the tub in the bathroom. "Fine," he cried?"a cold plunge in the morning before the daily struggle for immortality begins!" He turned the spigot. Vothiug hap? pened. "I reckon,"' drawled Mr. Quimby from the bedroom, "you'l! carry your cold plunge up from the well back of the inn before you plunge into it. The water's turned off. We can't take chances with busted pipes." "Of course," replied Magee less blithely. His ardor was somewhat dampened?a paradox-by the failure of the spigoi to gush forth a response. "Theres nothing I'd enjoy more than carrying eight palls of water upstairs every morning to get up an appetite lor-what? Oh. well, the Lord will provide. If we propose to heat up the great American outdoors, Quimby, 1 think it's time we bid a tire " Soon Quimby came back with kin uling and logs, and subsequently a noisy lire roared in the grate. "I wouldn't wander round none," he advised. - You might fall down some? thing-or something. I been living in these parts off and on for sixty years and more, and nothing like this ever came under my observation before. UowHoniever, 1 guess it's all right if Mr. Bentley says so. I'll come up In the morning and see you down to the train.'' ?'What tram'.'" Inquired > r. Magee. "Your train back to New. Jork city." replied Mr. Qulmb>. "l>la*t try to start l?a? k in the night. Trttre ain't no train till morning." ? "Ah. Quimby," laughed "ir. Magee, "you taunt me. You thttk I won't stick it out. But I'll show you. 1 tell yen I'm hungry for solitude." "That's all right." Mr. Quimby re? sponded "You can t make three square meals a day off solitude " "I'm desperate." said Magee. "Henry <'ahor Lodge must come to me. I say, with tears in Iiis eyes. Ever see tbs