store, found the door of Mr. Beebe's house and knocked upon that. There
was not even a light in the house. The Beebes had gone--as most of
East Wellmouth had gone--to the baked beans and brown-bread supper and
sociable at the church. Galusha Bangs was not aware of this, of course.
What he was aware of--painfully, distressingly aware--was the fact
that he was alone and supperless, very, very weak and tired, and almost
discouraged.

However, there was no use in standing in the wet grass of the Beebe yard
and giving way to his discouragement. Galusha Bangs was a plucky little
soul, although just now a weak and long-suffering one. He waded and
slopped back to the store platform, where he put down his suitcase and
started on a short tour of exploration. Through the fog and darkness he
could dimly perceive a signpost standing at the corner of the crossroad
where the store was located. He tramped over to look at it.

There were two signs affixed to the post. By the aid of the
pocket flashlight he read them. That at the top read thus: "TO THE
LIGHTHOUSE--1 1/2 MILES." There was an arrow pointing along the
crossroad and off to the right. Galusha paid little attention to this
sign; it was the other nailed beneath it which caught and held his
attention. It was a rather gaudy sign of red, white, and blue, and it
read thus: "THE RESTABIT INN AT GOULD'S BLUFFS--1 MILE." And the arrow
pointed in the same direction as the other.

Mr. Bangs uttered his favorite exclamation.

"Dear me! Why, dear me!"

He read the sign again. There was no mistake, his first reading had been