Seth Atkins was profane, also, when he heard the news.  Brown said nothing until his superior discovered with his own eyes that the bungalow was open.  Then, in answer to the lightkeeper’s questions, came the disclosure of the truth.

“Women!” roared Seth.  “You say there’s two women goin’ to live there?  By Judas!  I don’t believe it!”

“Go and see for yourself, then,” was the brusque answer.

“I sha’n’t, neither.  Who told you?”

“They did.”

“They did?  Was you there?”

“Yes.”

“What for?  I thought you swore never to go nigh a woman again.”

“I did, but—­well, it wasn’t my fault.  I—­”

“Yes?  Go on.”

“I went because I couldn’t help myself.  Went to help some one else, in fact.  I expected to find Graham and that other artist.  But—­”

“Well, go on.”

“I was stung,” said Mr. Brown, gloomily, and rubbed his forehead.

CHAPTER IX

THE BUNGALOW GIRL

During the following day the occupants of the lightkeeper’s dwelling saw little or nothing of the newcomers at the bungalow.  Brown, his forehead resembling a section of a relief map of the Rocky Mountains, remained indoors as much as possible, working when there was anything to do, and reading back-number magazines when there was not.  Seth went, as usual, to his room soon after noon.  His slumbers must, however, have been fitful ones, for several times the substitute assistant, turning quickly, saw the bedroom door swing silently shut.  The third time that this happened he ran to the door and threw it open in season to catch Mr. Atkins in an undignified dive for the bed.  A tremendous snore followed the dive.  The young man regarded him in silence for a few moments, during which the snores continued.  Then he shook his head.

“Humph!” he soliloquized; “I must ’phone for the doctor at once.  Either the doctor or the superintendent.  If he has developed that habit, he isn’t fit for this job.”

He turned away.  The slumberer stirred uneasily, rolled over, opened one eye, and sat up.

“Hi!” he called.  “Come back here!  Where you goin’?”

Brown returned, looking surprised and anxious.

“Oh!” he exclaimed, “are you awake?”

“Course I’m awake!  What a fool question that is.  Think I’m settin’ up here and talkin’ in my sleep?”

“Well, I didn’t know.”

“Why didn’t you know?  And, see here! what did you mean by sayin’ you was goin’ to ’phone the doctor or the superintendent, one or t’other?  Yes, you said it.  I heard you.”

“Oh, no! you didn’t.”

“Tell you I did.  Heard you with my own ears.”

“But how could you?  You weren’t awake.”

“Course I was awake!  Couldn’t have heard you unless I was, could I?  What ails you?  Them stings go clear through to your brains, did they?”