Mr. Wingate looked his friend over, winked, and asked a question.

“Sol,” he said, “you ain’t forgot how to keep a secret?”

The depot master smiled.  “I guess not,” he said.

“Well, then, I’m goin’ to trust you with one.  I’m goin’ to tell you the whole business about that robbin’.  It’s all mixed up with football and millionaires and things—­and it’s a dead secret, the truth of it.  So when I tell you it mustn’t go no further.

“You see,” he went on, “it was late into August when Peter T. was took down with the inspiration.  Not that there was anything ’specially new in his bein’ took.  He was subject to them seizures, Peter was, and every time they broke out in a fresh place.  The Old Home House itself was one of his inspirations, so was the hirin’ of college waiters, the openin’ of the two ‘Annex’ cottages, the South Shore Weather Bureau, and a whole lot more.  Sometimes, as in the weather-bureau foolishness, the disease left him and t’other two patients—­meanin’ me and Cap’n Jonadab—­pretty weak in the courage, and wasted in the pocketbook; but gen’rally they turned out good, and our systems and bank accounts was more healthy than normal.  One of Peter T.’s inspirations was consider’ble like typhoid fever—­if you did get over it, you felt better for havin’ had it.

“This time the attack was in the shape of a ‘supplementary season.’  ‘Twas Peter’s idea that shuttin’ up the Old Home the fust week in September was altogether too soon.

“‘What’s the use of quittin’,’ says he, ’while there’s bait left and the fish are bitin’?  Why not keep her goin’ through September and October?  Two or three ads—­my ads—­in the papers, hintin’ that the ducks and wild geese are beginnin’ to keep the boarders awake by roostin’ in the back yard and hollerin’ at night—­two or three of them, and we’ll have gunners here by the regiment.  Other summer hotels do it, the Wapatomac House and the rest, so why not us?  It hurts my conscience to see good money gettin’ past the door ’count of the “Not at Home” sign hung on the knob.  What d’you say, partners?’ says he.

“Well, we had consider’ble to say, partic’lar Cap’n Jonadab.  ’Twas too risky and too expensive.  Gunnin’ was all right except for one thing—­that is, that there wa’n’t none wuth mentionin’.

“’Ducks are scurser round here than Democrats in a Vermont town-meetin’,’ growled the Cap’n.  ’And as for geese!  How long has it been since you see a goose, Barzilla?’

“‘Land knows!’ says I.  ’I can remember as fur back as the fust time Washy Sparrow left off workin’, but I can’t—­’

“Brown told us to shut up.  Did we cal’late he didn’t know what he was talkin’ about?