"Oh! it's spinal trouble, is it?" Mrs. Sykes surveyed him
commiseratingly. "You look straight enough. But land! You never can
tell. Them spinal troubles are most deceiving. Terrible things they are,
but they don't shorten life as quickly as some others. Not that that's a
blessing! Mostly, folks as has them would be glad to go long before they
are took. Still, it gives them some time to be prepared. I remember--"

"I must go now, Mrs. Sykes. Give Ann some of the medicine as soon as it
comes. It isn't exactly spinal trouble that is the matter with me, you
know, but--er--I'll send down the kind of mattress I like. In fact, I
shall probably wish to furnish my rooms myself. You won't mind,
I'm sure."

"Land sakes, no, I don't mind! Most doctors are finicky. Don't worry
about the medicine. I'll see that Ann takes it."

She watched him go with a glance in which satisfaction and foreboding
mingled. "Poor young feller!" she mused. "He didn't like what I said
about his spine a mite. Back troubles makes folks terrible touchy."




CHAPTER V


Two days after the installation of what Mrs. Sykes persisted in calling
the "spinal mattress," Esther Coombe was late in getting home from
school. As was usually the case when this happened, Jane, designated by
mournful Mark as "the Pindling One," was sitting on the gatepost gazing