majestically waiting to receive the prospective guest. Over her
shoulders peered the faces of the boarders.

"Good afternoon," began the landlady. "I presume likely you would like
to--"

She was interrupted. The newcomer turned toward her and extended his
hand.

"Hello, Ketury!" he said. "I ain't seen you sence you wore your hair
up, but you're just as good-lookin' as ever. And ain't that Bailey? Yes,
'tis, and Asaph, too! How are you, boys? Shake!"

Mr. Bangs and his chum, the town clerk, had emerged from the doorway.
Their mouths and eyes were wide open and they seemed to be suffering
from a sort of paralysis.

"Well? What's the matter with you?" demanded the arrival. "Ain't too
stuck up to shake hands after all these years, are you?"

Bailey's mouth closed in order that it's possessor might swallow. Then
it slowly reopened.

"I swan to man!" he ejaculated. "WELL! I swan to man! I--I b'lieve
you're Cy Whittaker!"

"Course I am. Have to dye my carrot top if I want to play anybody else.
But look here, boys, you answer my question: who had the cheek to rig
up that blasted piazza on my house? It starts to come down to-morrow
mornin'!"