"Who is he?" demanded Mrs. Hopper.
"By gum, I fergot to ask him. I got thanked fer ev'rything I did an' ev'rything I couldn't do, an' I've got five dollars o' his money in my jeans as a evidence o' good faith. The whole performance sort o' knocked me out."
"No wonder," asserted, his wife sympathetically.
"I'll bet he's some punkins, though," declared Mary Ann, "an' he'll be a godsend to us after a dull week. Only, remember this, if he kicks on the feed he don't git no satisfaction out o' me."
"I don't think he'll kick on anything," said her father. "He wants eggs for his supper, in a omelet."
"He couldn't want anything that's cheaper to make," said Mrs. Hopper. "The hens are layin' fine jus' now."
"When he comes down, make him register," suggested Mary Ann. "If ye don't, we won't know what ter call him."
"I'll call him an easy mark, whatever his name is," said the landlord, grinning at his own attempt at wit.
The stranger kept his room until five o'clock. Then he came down, spick and span, his cane under his arm, upon his hands a pair of bright yellow kid gloves.
"I will now indulge in my walk," said he, addressing the family group in the office. "My nerves are better, but still vibrant. I shall be further restored on my return."