Madison, promptly and full of interest, rose from his chair, passed
around the fireplace, and halted before a row of shelves set in against
the wall.

"I pass," Madison admitted to himself after a moment, during which his
eyes roved over the well chosen classics. "I've heard of one or two of
these before--casually. I've an idea that if the Patriarch's got all
this inside his gray matter, it's just as well for the Flopper, for Pale
Face Harry, for Helena and yours truly that he's deaf and dumb--and will
be blind."

Madison came back to the Patriarch with beaming face, and picked up the
slate.

"I read a great deal myself," he wrote. "It is a pleasure to find _real_
books here. May I, during my stay in Needley, look upon them in a little
way as my own library?"

"You are very welcome indeed," the Patriarch answered.

"Thank you," wrote Madison. "And now, surely, I must go"--he smiled at
the Patriarch.

"Come to-morrow," invited the Patriarch. "I would like to show you all
around my little place here."

"Indeed, I will," Madison scratched upon the slate, "and do you know
that somehow, since I came here to-night, I feel a sense of relief, a
sort of guarantee that everything is going to be all right with me in
the future."