“It was about everything,” stoutly. “It was your notion, as you call it, that saved Cap'n Jethro from findin' Nelson Howard in that front hall; and savin' him from that saved us from havin' a crazy man on our hands, I truly believe. And you did it so right on the instant, so matter of fact and common sense. Really, Mr. Bangs, I--I don't know what to say to you.” Galusha smiled. “You said it before,” he observed, “when you said you were surprised. I am surprised myself. Dear me, yes.” “Don't! That was a foolish thing for me to say and you mustn't take it the wrong way. And your bringing Nelson's hat over here instead of leavin' it in that entry for more of Marietta's crowd to notice and, ten to one, recognize! We all knew it was hangin' there. I saw Nelson hang it there, myself, when he came in. But did _I_ think to take it out of sight? Did _I_--Why, what is it? What's the matter?” Her lodger was protesting violently. “Don't, don't, don't, Miss Phipps,” he begged. “Please don't! You see, that hat--that cap of Mr. Howard's--” “Yes, you brought it over here.” “Yes, I--I brought it over. I brought it--but--” “But what?” “But I didn't know that I did. I must have been thinking of something else when I went after my things and it is a mercy that I took my own coat. It was only by accident that I took the--ah--young man's cap. I was under the impression that it was my own. I presume my own cap is hanging in the Hallett entry at this moment.... Ah--good-night, Miss Phipps. Good night. I have had a very pleasant evening, very pleasant indeed.” CHAPTER VIII Martha Phipps and her lodger, to say nothing of Lulie Hallett, were fearful of the effect which the eventful seance might have upon the light keeper. It was with considerable foreboding that Martha called Lulie up on the telephone the next morning. But the news she received in answer to her call was reassuring. Captain Jethro, so Lulie said, was apparently quite himself again, a little tired and a trifle irritable, but otherwise all right. “The only unusual thing about him,” said his daughter, “is that he has not once mentioned the seance or anything that happened there. If it wasn't too ridiculous to be possible I should almost think he had forgotten it.” “Then for the land sakes don't remind him,” urged Martha, eagerly. “So long as HE is willin' not to remember you ought to be. Yes, and thankful,” she added. “I guess likely he hasn't forgotten,” she said afterwards, in conversation with her lodger. “I imagine he is a good deal upset in his mind; your bouncin' in and claimin' to be the 'evil influence' put him 'way off his course and he hasn't got his bearin's yet. He's probably tryin' to think his way through the fog and he won't talk till he sees a light, or thinks he sees one. I wish to goodness the light would be so strong that he'd see through Marietta Hoag and all her foolishness, but I'm afraid that's too much to expect.”