almost as if to welcome an unexpected guest. In the sudden flood of the
porch light his face was illumined, and behind him the pretty living
room gave a sweet homely setting. The stranger stood for an instant
blinking, half astonished; then the memory of his rendezvous at break
of day brought back his irritation at the delay.

"Are you Parsons?" he demanded, just as if "Parsons" were at fault that
he had not been on hand before.

"Parsons?" said Mr. Severn reflectively. "I don't recall anyone of that
name hereabouts. Perhaps you are on the wrong road. There is a Parsons
at Monopoly."

"Parsons is the name. Aren't you Parsons? A couple of men down the road
said you were, and that you could fix me up. They said right next the
church and that your light was still burning." The visitor's tone was
belligerent.

Severn's face cleared with a smile.

"Oh, they must have said 'Parson,' they often call me that. Come in.
What can I do for you?"

The young man eyed him coldly and made no move to enter.

"Parson or Parsons, it makes no difference does it? Mr. Parson, if
you're so particular then, come out and look at my car. It seems to be
in bad shape, and be quick about it. I've got over two hundred miles to
make before daybreak, so get a hustle on. I'll pay you well if you
don't waste any time."