after day, devoid of Arabella—say, that took courage. I wanted to try it. I'm a courageous man, as I say."
"You seem so," Mr. Magee agreed.
"Lion-hearted," assented Mr. Bland. "I determined to show my nerve, and live. But there was my letter to Arabella. I feared she wouldn't appreciate my bravery—women are dull sometimes. It came to me maybe she would be hurt if I didn't keep my word, and die. So I had to—disappear. I had a friend mixed up in affairs at Baldpate, No, I can't give his name. I told him my story. He was impressed by my spirit, as you have been. He gave me a key he had—the key of the door opening from the east veranda into the dining-room. So I came up here. I came here to be alone, to forgive and forget, to be forgot. And maybe to plan a new haberdashery in distant parts."
"Was it your wedding necktie," asked Mr. Magee, "that you threw into the safe when you saw me coming?"
"No," replied Mr. Bland, sighing deeply. "A package of letters, written to me by Arabella at
