"Dear me, doctor! Dear me! Well, perhaps I may be able to hire
a--ah--car or wagon or something to take me to Wellmouth. I have
friends in Wellmouth; I intended visiting them. Do you know Professor
Hall--ah--George Hall, of New York?"

"Yes, I know him well. He and his family are patients of mine. But the
Halls are not in Wellmouth now."

"They are not?"

"No, they went back to New York two weeks or more ago. Their cottage is
closed."

"Dear me!... Oh, dear!... Why, but--but there IS a hotel at Wellmouth?"

"Yes, a kind of hotel, but you mustn't think of going there to-night."
Then, with a motion of his hand, he indicated to Miss Phipps that he
wished to speak with her alone. She led the way to the kitchen and he
followed.

"Martha," he said, when the door closed, "to be absolutely honest with
you, that man in there shouldn't go out again to-night. He has been half
sick for some time, I judge from what he has told me, and he is weak and
worn out from his tramp and wetting."

Miss Phipps shook her head impatiently.

"The idea of Raish Pulcifer's cartin' him 'way over here and then
leavin' him in the middle of the road," she said. "It's just like