That's the way it was all the time. Everybody brought their troubles to
me, and I guess I thought I was a little tin god on wheels and the place
couldn't get along without me. But it did; it does. We all think we'll
leave a big hole behind us when we go, but it's just like taking your
thumb out of a bowl of soup. There isn't even a dent.

Mr. Van Alstyne came out on the run, and when he saw Mr. Pierce by the
fire--that was his name, Alan Pierce--he stopped and stared. Then he
said:

"You infernal young scamp!" And with that Mr. Pierce jumped up,
surprised and pretty mad, and Mr. Van Alstyne saw his mistake.

"I'm sure I beg your pardon!" he said. "The fact is, I was expecting
somebody else, and in the firelight--"

"You surprised me, that's all," said Mr. Pierce. "Under the
circumstances, I'm glad I'm not the other chap."

"You may be," assured Mr. Sam grimly. "You're not unlike him, by the
way. A little taller and heavier, but--"

Now it's all very well for Mr. Sam to say I originated the idea and all
that, but as truly as I am writing this, as I watched his face I saw the
same thought come into it. He looked Mr. Pierce up and down, and then he
stared into the fire and puckered his mouth to whistle, but he didn't.
And finally he glanced at me, but I was looking into the fire, too.

"Just come, haven't you?" he asked. "How did you get up the hill?"