thing that put the tuner's hand exactly above the pin.

"It must take an immense amount of strength," he observed, "to tune a
piano with a wrench like that."

March turned and with a pleasant sort of smile wished him a good morning.
But he finished ironing the wave out of a faulty unison before he replied
to John's remark. He arose from the bench as he spoke. "It does; but it
is more a matter of knack really. A great tuner named Clark taught me,
and he learned it from Jonas Chickering himself. Old Jonas wouldn't allow
any of his grand pianos to be tuned with an L head wrench."

"My wife," said John, "recalled you to me last night, in the effort to
remedy her omission to pay you for your services yesterday. I remember
your sister's case very distinctly. I hope she is ..."

"She is quite well, thank you," March said. Oddly enough his manner
stiffened a little.

John hastily produced his check. It had struck him as possible that March
might suspect him of hinting that one gratuitous service ought to offset
the other.

"I hope the amount is satisfactory," he said.

March glanced at the check and smiled. "It's rather more than
satisfactory; I should call it handsome. Thank you very much." He tucked
the check into the pocket of his shirt.

"My wife's immensely pleased over what you did to her piano. I'm sure she