His eyes gave way first, but his surrender came with a bad grace.

"All right, Phyl. But he's going to be covered by a gun all the time.
I'm not taking chances on him."

"Then have him taken into my den. I'll wake Aunt Becky and we'll be
there in a few minutes."

When Phyllis arrived with Aunt Becky she found the nester sitting on the
lounge, Healy opposite him with a revolver close to his hand. The
prisoner's arms had been freed. His sardonic smile still twitched at the
corners of his mouth.

"You've ce'tainly begun your practice on a disreputable patient, Doctor
Sanderson. I haven't had time to comb my hair since that little séance
with your friends. We sure did have a sociable time. They're all good
mixers." He looked into the long glass opposite, laughed at sight of his
swollen face, then rattled into a misquotation of some verses he
remembered:

"There's many a black black eye, they say, but none so bright as mine;
For I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' the May."

"Put the water and things down on that table, Becky," her mistress told
her, ignoring the man's blithe folly.

"I'm giving you lots of chances to do the Good Samaritan act," he
continued. "Honest, I hate to be so much trouble. You'll have to blame
Mr. Healy. He's the responsible party for these little accidents of