“And where will you go when you get back to the village?” asked Doctor Powers.

“Why, to the—­ah—­hotel.  I presume there is a hotel.”

“No, there isn’t.  The Inn across the road here is the only hotel in East Wellmouth, and that is closed for the season.”

“Dear me, doctor!  Dear me!  Well, perhaps I may be able to hire a—­ah—­car or wagon or something to take me to Wellmouth.  I have friends in Wellmouth; I intended visiting them.  Do you know Professor Hall—­ah—­George Hall, of New York?”

“Yes, I know him well.  He and his family are patients of mine.  But the Halls are not in Wellmouth now.”

“They are not?”

“No, they went back to New York two weeks or more ago.  Their cottage is closed.”

“Dear me! . . .  Oh, dear! . . .  Why, but—­but there is a hotel at Wellmouth?”

“Yes, a kind of hotel, but you mustn’t think of going there to-night.”  Then, with a motion of his hand, he indicated to Miss Phipps that he wished to speak with her alone.  She led the way to the kitchen and he followed.

“Martha,” he said, when the door closed, “to be absolutely honest with you, that man in there shouldn’t go out again to-night.  He has been half sick for some time, I judge from what he has told me, and he is weak and worn out from his tramp and wetting.”

Miss Phipps shook her head impatiently.

“The idea of Raish Pulcifer’s cartin’ him ’way over here and then leavin’ him in the middle of the road,” she said.  “It’s just like Raish, but that doesn’t help it any; nothin’ that’s like Raish helps anything—­much,” she added.

The doctor laughed.

“I’m beginning to believe you’re right, Martha,” he agreed.

“I’m pretty sure I am.  I think I know Raish Pulcifer by this time; I almost wish I didn’t.  Father used to say that if ignorance was bliss the home for feeble-minded folks ought to be a paradise.  But I don’t know; sometimes I wish I wasn’t so wise about some things; I might be happier.”

Her pleasant, comely face had clouded over.  Doctor Powers thought he understood why.

“Haven’t heard anything hopeful about the Wellmouth Development Company, have you?” he asked.

“Not a word.  I’ve almost given up expectin’ to.  How about you?”

“Oh, I’ve heard nothing new.  Well, I’ve got only ten shares, so the loss, if it is a loss, won’t break me.  But Cap’n Jethro went in rather heavily, so they say.”

“I believe he did.”

“Yes.  Well, it may be all right, after all.  Raish says all we need is time.”

“Um-hm.  And that’s all the Lord needed when He made the world.  He made it in six days.  Sometimes when I’m out of sorts I wonder if one more week wouldn’t have given us a better job. . . .  But there, that’s irreverent, isn’t it, and off the track besides?  Now about this little Bangs man.  What ought to be done with him?”