“You don’t say so!” said Hiram.  “It must be pretty important for persons to spend money that way.  Nobody dead, I s’pose?”

“Well,” said Mandy, “Mr. Pettengill left the telegram in his room and I had to read it to see whether I had to throw it away or not, and I remember every word that was in it.”

Hiram asked earnestly, “Well, what was it?  Is his sister Alice goin’ to get married?”

Mandy answered, “No, she is sick and she wanted him to come right up to Boston at once to see her.”

Hiram said, “’Zekiel must think a powerful lot of that sister of his’n.  Went right off to Boston without his breakfast.”

“I guess it would have to be something nearer than a sister to make you do that,” said Mandy.  “I don’t know but one thing, Hiram, that would make you go without your feed.”

“What’s that, Mandy?” said he.  “You?”

“No,” replied Mandy, “a famine.”

“You ain’t no sort of an idea as to what’s the matter with her, have you?” he asked.

“No, I haven’t,” said Mandy, “and if I had I don’t imagine I would tell you.  Now you better run right home, little boy, for I have to go upstairs and do the chamber work.”

She whisked out of the room, and Hiram, helping himself to a couple of apples, left the house and walked slowly along the road towards Eastborough Centre.

Suddenly he espied a man coming up the road and soon saw it was Quincy Adams Sawyer.

“Just the feller I wanted to see,” soliliquized Hiram.

As Quincy reached him he said, “Mr. Sawyer, I want to speak to you a minute or two.  Come into Pettengill’s barn, there’s nobody to hum but Mandy and she’s upstairs makin’ the beds.”

They entered the barn and sat down on a couple of half barrels that served for stools.

“Mr. Sawyer, you’ve treated me fust rate since you’ve been here and I want to do you a good turn and put you on your guard.”

Quincy laughed.

Hiram continued, “Well, maybe you won’t laugh if Bob Wood tackles you.  I won’t tell you how I found it out for I’m no eavesdropper, but keep your eye on Bob Wood and look out he don’t play no mean tricks on you.”

Quincy remarked, “I suppose Mr. Strout is at the bottom of this and he has hired this Bob Wood to do what he can’t do himself.”

“I guess you have got it about right, Mr. Sawyer,” said Hiram.  “Can you fight?” he asked of Quincy.

“I am a good shot with a rifle,” Quincy replied.  “I can hit the ace of hearts at one hundred feet with a pistol.”

“I don’t mean that,” said Hiram.  “Can you fight with yer fists?”

“I don’t know much about it,” said Quincy with a queer smile.

“Then I am afraid you will find Bob Wood a pretty tough customer.  He can lick any two fellers in town.  Why, he polished off Cobb’s twins one day in less than five minutes, both of ’em.”

“Where does this Bob Wood spend most of his time?” asked Quincy.