"That settles it," said Quincy.
"Just half an hour!" exclaimed Strout, looking at his watch.
A loud knock was heard on the door.
"I guess Abner has got tired o' waitin' and has come arter me," remarked Strout.
Quincy opened the door and Mr. Stiles stood revealed.
"Is Professor Strout here?" asked he.
"Yes," said Quincy; "come in."
"I guess I'll see him out here," continued Abner. "What I've got to say may be kinder private."
"Come in, Abner," cried Strout, "and let's hear what's on your mind."
"Wall," said Abner, looking askance at Quincy, "if yer satisfied, I am. Hiram Maxwell's jest came down from Mis' Putnam's, and Mis' Heppy Putnam's dead,"—Quincy started on hearing this,—"and Samanthy Green is at her wits' end, 'cause she never was alone in the house with a dead pusson afore, an' Hiram's goin' to take Betsy Green back to stay with her sister, and then he's goin' to take Miss Alice Pettengill down home, cuz Miss Pettengill's most tired out; cuz, you see, she's been there since eight o'clock this mornin', and Mis' Putnam didn't die till about one o'clock, and Samanthy says Mis' Putnam took on awful, so you could hear her all over the house, and Miss Lindy Putnam, she's goin' to take the next train to Bosting—she's goin', bag and baggage—and I've got to drive her over to the station, and Bob Wood, he's comin' along with a waggin to carry her trunks and bandboxes and sich, and so I've come to tell yer, Professor, that I can't take yer over to the Centre this arternoon, no how."