From columns of Van Camp Mr. Blumpitty raised his weary eyes and they fell on an acquaintance in the crowd. You saw that even the teeth of the dun-colored husband were yellow-gray. But the effect of his watery smile was altogether gray, and without suspicion of any hue less somber. It made you think of a dripping day in November, with winter all before you. But lo! it was the cheerful giant Blumpitty had recognized. How long had he been there at Hildegarde’s elbow. “What’s that I heard you sayin’ against the _Congress_?” he demanded of Blumpitty. “_Congress_ is the best boat goin’.” “We couldn’t get passage for all of us on the _Congress_,” said Blumpitty meekly. “And we didn’t want to be divided,” contributed Mrs. Blumpitty. “We’re sure the _Los Angeles_ is all right.” “What makes you sure?” “Becuz she’s just fresh from the Gover’mint service.” The giant laughed, and took out a big silver watch. Hildegarde saw with a start of surprise that it was past luncheon time. “They _do_ keep you hangin’ around here.” Blumpitty looked wearily at the crowd. “Guess I’ll go and make an appointment with Baumgarten for right away after breakfast to-morrer.” He moved off with the giant at his side and the small wife at his heels. Hildegarde hurried back to Madeleine’s, where behold Mrs. Mar and Harry! “The boys began to fuss when they read in the papers about Mr. Dorn being ill.” “Oh, it’s all right—about me, I mean,” said Hildegarde. “I told you it would be,” Mrs. Mar said to Harry. “Now, here we are in a town where every hotel is full to overflowing, and Jacob Dorn dying—to judge by the way Madeleine behaves. But she always was a little theatrical—that girl.” “No, her husband is very ill. I feel I oughtn’t to be here myself, really.” Obvious enough Hildegarde’s dismay at the apparition of her family. Ignorant as she was, already she had learned how little help the average person could be about this undertaking. The Blumpittys were different. She told about them. Mrs. Mar no sooner heard of their existence than she said: “Now, if you could travel with a respectable couple—” In vain Hildegarde pointed out she was going on another ship. Anyhow, those people could tell Hildegarde things—they could advise. Anybody but Hildegarde would have had them here and pumped them well. The girl, in a subdued voice, reminded her mother that it was a house whose owner lay dangerously ill. “The very reason! Mr. Dorn isn’t advising you, as he promised. You must find some one who will. Oh, you _are_ slow-witted! Where are those people staying with their foolish name? You don’t even know their address? Well, upon my soul, it’s a good thing we did come, after all! How you’ll ever be able to get on by yourself, _I_ don’t know.” In a trice Mrs. Mar had despatched Harry to scour Seattle, to ransack every hotel register in the place, “And don’t come back here without those Blumpittys.”