the fire he gazed at her profile, and always with that puzzled look,
as if he hadn't yet come to believe that she was the newspaper Miss
Jennings.

After everything had been explained to him, including Mr. Jennings'
liver and disposition, she turned to him and said:

"We are in your hands, you see, Mr. Pierce. Are you going to help us?"
And when she asked him that, it was plain to me that he was only sorry
he couldn't die helping.

"If everybody agrees to it," he said, looking at her, "and you all think
it's feasible and I can carry it off, I'm perfectly willing to try."

"Oh, it's feasible," Mr. Dick said in a relieved voice, getting up and
beginning to strut up and down the room. "It isn't as though I'm beyond
call. You can come out here and consult me if you get stuck. And then
there's Minnie; she knows a good bit about the old place."

Mr. Sam looked at me and winked.

"Of course," said Mr. Dick, "I expect to retain control, you understand
that, I suppose, Pierce? You can come out every day for instructions. I
dare say sanatoriums are hardly your line."

Mr. Pierce was looking at Miss Patty and she knew it. When a woman looks
as unconscious as she did it isn't natural.

"Eh--oh, well no, hardly," he said, coming to himself; "I've tried
everything else, I believe. It can't be worse than carrying a bunch of