“I want to know!  Well, well!  So Ed Craig’s gone, has he?  I remember him when he was ‘bout so high.  Used to come down here an’ I’d set him up on the counter right where you be now, Mr. Herring, and give him a stick of candy.  I recollect he always wanted the kind with the pink stripes on it.  An’ he’s dead, you say?  We often wondered what had become of Ed. Folks thought it kind of queer he didn’t come home the time his mother died.”

“He was away and didn’t learn of her illness until it was too late,” said Wade.  “He felt mighty badly about that, Mr. Prout, and I wish you’d let the people here know how it happened.  Not that it matters much to Ed now, but he was the best friend I ever had, and I don’t want folks who used to know him to think he deliberately stayed away that time.”

“That’s so, sir.  An’ I’m glad to hear the truth of it.  Ed didn’t seem to me when I knew him the sort of feller to do a thing like that.  Folks’ll be glad to know about it, Mr. Herring.”

“Herrick, please.  Now just look over that list and check off what you can let me have, will you?  I’m going to stay awhile, and so I will have to get in a few provisions.”

Mr. Prout ran his eye down the list dubiously, checking now and then.  When he laid it down and pushed it across the counter his tone was apologetic.

“Ain’t a great deal there I can sell you, Mr. Herrick.  I’m kind of out of some things.  I guess I can get most of ’em for you, though, if you ain’t got to have ’em right away.”

Wade looked at the slip.

“You put up what you’ve got,” he said, “and I’ll send over to Tottingham Center for the rest.”

“Don’t believe you’ll get ’em all there,” commented Mr. Prout.  “Things like bacon in jars an’ canned mushrooms there ain’t much call for around here.”

But Wade was busy revising his list, and made no comment.  Presently he went out and despatched the boy to the Center.  When he returned to the store Mr. Prout was weighing out sugar.

“So you come into the Craig place, Mr. Herrick.  I suppose you bought it.”

“No, Ed left it to me in his will.  Wanted me to come on here and have a look at it and see that it was all right.  He was very fond of that place.  So I came.  And—­well, it’s a pleasant place, Mr. Prout, and it’s a pretty country you have around here, and so I reckon I’ll stay awhile and camp out in the cottage.”

“Going to do your own cooking?” asked Mr. Prout.

“Have to, I reckon.  It won’t be the first time, though.”

“Guess you wouldn’t have any trouble findin’ some one to come in an’ do for you, if you wanted they should,” said Mr. Prout.  “There’s my gal, now.  She’s only fifteen, but she’s capable an’ can cook pretty tolerable well.  Course you know your business best, Mr. Herrick, but—­”

“Send her over in the morning,” said Wade, promptly.  “Is there a mail out of here to-night?”