"Oh, a person named Elisha Warren. He lives in this forsaken hole
somewhere, I believe. If I had known what an experience I must go
through to reach him, I'd have seen him at the devil."

From the bulky figure at the horse's head came a chuckle.

"Humph! Well, Mr. Graves, if the butt of that limb had fetched us,
instead of t'other end, I don't know but you MIGHT have seen him there.
I'm Elisha Warren, and that's my house over yonder where the lights
are."



CHAPTER II


"This is your room, Mr. Graves," said Miss Abigail Baker, placing
the lighted lamp on the bureau. "And here's a pair of socks and some
slippers. They belong to Elisha--Cap'n Warren, that is--but he's got
more. Cold water and towels and soap are on the washstand over yonder;
but I guess you've had enough COLD water for one night. There's plenty
hot in the bathroom at the end of the hall. After you change your wet
things, just leave 'em spread out on the floor. I'll come fetch 'em by
and by and hang 'em to dry in the kitchen. Come right downstairs when
you're ready. Anything else you want? No? All right then. You needn't
hurry. Supper's waited an hour 'n' a half as 'tis. 'Twon't hurt it to
wait a spell longer."

She went away, closing the door after her. The bewildered, wet and
shivering New Yorker stared about the room, which, to his surprise, was