XXXIX IN WHICH THE TALE ENDS IN THE HOUSE ON THE HILL




CHAPTER I

MOSTLY TONY


Among the voluble, excited, commencement-bound crowd that boarded the
Northampton train at Springfield two male passengers were conspicuous for
their silence as they sat absorbed in their respective newspapers which
each had hurriedly purchased in transit from train to train.

A striking enough contrast otherwise, however, the two presented. The
man next the aisle was well past sixty, rotund of abdomen, rubicund
of countenance, beetle-browed. He was elaborately well-groomed,
almost foppish in attire, and wore the obvious stamp of worldly
success, the air of one accustomed to giving orders and seeing them
obeyed before his eyes.

His companion and chance seat-mate was young, probably a scant five and
twenty, tall, lean, close-knit of frame with finely chiseled, almost
ascetic features, though the vigorous chin and generous sized mouth
forbade any hint of weakness or effeminacy. His deep-set, clear gray-blue
eyes were the eyes of youth; but they would have set a keen observer to
wondering what they had seen to leave that shadow of unyouthful gravity
upon them.