When Utterly asked finally for Basil Everman, Dr. Scott was not able to help him in his search. He said that he had lived in Waltonville for only about fifteen years and that he did not remember that he had ever heard of Basil. Richard Everman had been president of the college and he had had one child, a daughter who was now Mrs. Lister. From her the family history could doubtless be learned. It might be that Basil was her uncle. Dr. Scott stirred uneasily, as he was wont to do when he was anxious to be left in peace. Mrs. Scott had moved to the side of the doorway from which she could see the stranger. He seemed to her each moment more distinguished in appearance. She was certain that he hailed from that distant Boston which she adored without having seen. When she saw him reach for his hat and stick, which he had laid on the porch floor beside him, she lifted the latch and walked out. She was just in the nick of time. Neither the conductor nor the brakeman nor even the hotel-keeper was as offensive to Utterly as this man who professed to teach English literature. He did not exhibit his magazines or explain why he sought Basil Everman. For once, Dr. Scott did as he was expected and desired to do. Rising, he presented the stranger to Mrs. Scott with a cordiality which only hope of his own escape could have inspired. Now, at least, he need not talk. Perhaps he could even leave the stranger entirely in her hands. This was, he explained with a Chesterfieldian bow, Mr. Utterly, who was making inquiry about some one named Basil Everman. Mrs. Scott seated herself with a finality of manner which made it necessary for Utterly to be seated also. "Oh, yes?" said she eagerly and inquiringly. "Do you know anything of him?" asked Utterly. "Why, yes. He was a brother of Mrs. Lister. He died--" "Died!" repeated Utterly. "Oh, yes, before we came to Waltonville. I believe he lived away from home. He died of some contagious disease and he wasn't buried here, I know that. I think he was a bit _wild_." Mrs. Scott looked at the stranger with some deep meaning. Dr. Scott flushed during this rush of words. It was strange that she should know so much about Basil Everman and he so little, but whether he had never heard his name, or whether he had known and had forgotten were questions of too little importance to solve or to explain. "What do you mean by 'wild'?" asked Utterly with blunt curiosity. "Oh, he--he didn't do things as other people did them," answered Mrs. Scott vaguely. "You never saw him?" "No." "Nor heard anything of him but that?" "No." Mrs. Scott made the acknowledgment with reluctance. When Utterly said that her not knowing more was very singular, her curiosity became almost a physical distress. "Was there anything remarkable about him?" she asked. "Rather!" Utterly now took hat and stick firmly in his hand. "Where do the Listers live?"