"They didn't like it a bit, and talked very crossly indeed, and said
perfectly horrible, but quite true, things about Messrs. Nesbitt and
Orchard. But finally they said they would move out, only they must
have until Friday to find a new house. They would move out on
Saturday, and leave the keys at the office.

"Mr. Nesbitt was much pleased, and said I had done nicely, gave me the
ten dollars and a box of chocolates and we were as happy as cooing
doves the rest of the day.

"But my family must have been more indignant than I realized. On
Saturday, at one o'clock, Mr. Nesbitt told me to go around by the house
on my way home to make sure the front door was locked. It was locked
all right, but I noticed that the electric lights were burning. Mr.
Nesbitt had not sent the key with me, as it was an automatic lock, and
it really was none of my business if folks moved out and left the
lights on. Still it seemed irregular, and when I got home I tried to
get Mr. Nesbitt on the phone. But he and Mr. Orchard had left the
office and gone out into the country for the afternoon.
Business,--they never go to the country for pleasure. So I comfortably
forgot all about the electric lights.

"But Monday afternoon, Mr. Nesbitt happened to remark that his family
would not move in until Wednesday. Then I remembered.

"I said, 'What is the idea in having the electric lights burning down
there?'

"'What?' he shouted. He always shouts unless he has a particular
reason for whispering.