At this announcement Nance dropped her dish towel, and dashing to the
door flung herself into the arms of a short, fat, baldheaded man who had
just come out of the front room across the hall.

"Easy there!" warned the new-comer. "You ain't aimin' to butt the engine
clean offen the track, air yer?"

Nance got his arm around her neck, and her arm around his knees, and thus
entwined they made their way to the table.

Uncle Jed Burks, uncle by courtesy, was a boarder by day and a
gate-tender by night at the signal tower at the railroad crossing. On
that day long ago when he had found himself a widower, helpless in the
face of domestic problems, he had accepted Mrs. Snawdor's prompt offer of
hospitality and come across the hall for his meals. At the end of the
week he had been allowed to show his gratitude by paying the rent, and by
the end of the month he had become the chief prop of the family. It is
difficult to conceive of an Atlas choosing to burden himself with the
world, but there are temperaments that seek responsibilities just as
there are those, like Mr. Snawdor, who refuse them.

Through endless discomforts, Uncle Jed had stayed on, coaxing Mr. Snawdor
into an acceptance of his lot, helping Mrs. Snawdor over financial
difficulties, and bestowing upon the little Snawdors the affection which
they failed to elicit from either the maternal or the paternal bosom. And
the amazing thing was that Uncle Jed always thought he was receiving
favors instead of conferring them.

"What's this I hear about my little partner gittin' into trouble?" he