CHAPTER VII.

A VERY ACCIDENTAL CALL.


At the very moment when the angry crab closed his nippers on the bare
big toe of Dick Lee, and his shrill note of discomfort rang across the
inlet, the shriller whistle of the engine announced the arrival of the
morning train from the city, at the little station in the village.

A moment or so later, a very pretty young lady was standing beside a
trunk on the platform, trying to get some information from the flagman.

"Can you tell me where Mr. Foster lives?"

"That's the gimlet-eyed lawyer from New Yark?"

"Yes, he's from New York," said the young lady, smiling in his face.
"Where does he live?"

"He's got the sassiest boy, thin. Is it him as took the Kinzer house?"

"I think likely it is. Can you tell me how to get there?"

"Thim Kinzers is foine people. The widdy married one of the gurrels to
Misther Morris."

"But how can I get to the house?"