Greatly wondering, Tommy Candy ran to the door and flung it wide open. There on the threshold stood a man, his hand raised in the act of knocking again. A little man, in a flyaway cloak, with a flyaway necktie and long, fluttering mustaches; a little man who looked in the dim light like a cross between a bat and the Flying Dutchman. "House!" said the little man. "Within there!" "Well," said Tommy, slowly, "I never said it was a monument!" The stranger made a gesture of brushing him away. "Minion," he said, "bandy no words, but straightway tell me, does Homer Hollopeter lurk within?" "Did you wish to see him?" inquired Tommy, civilly yet cautiously. A backward glance over his shoulder gave him a curious impression. Mr. Homer's shadow, as he stood just within the parlor door, was thrown on the pale shining wood of the hall floor; this shadow seemed to flutter, with motions singularly like those of the stranger. Another moment, and the little gentleman came forward, carrying a candle. He was trembling violently, and, as he held the candle high, its wavering light fell on the countenance of the stranger. [Illustration: "AS HE HELD THE CANDLE HIGH, ITS WAVERING LIGHT FELL ON THE COUNTENANCE OF THE STRANGER"] "Gee whiz!" muttered Tommy Candy. "It's himself over again in black." "It is my brother Pindar!" cried Mr. Homer, dropping the candle. "It is my only brother, whom I thought dead--a--defunct;--a--wafted to--my dear fellow, my dear brother, how are you? This is a joyful moment; this is--a--an auspicious occasion; this is--a--an oasis in the arid plains which--" "Encircle us!" said Mr. Pindar. "Precisely! Homer, embrace me!" He flung his arms abroad, and the batlike cloak fluttered out to its fullest width. Mr. Homer seemed to shrink together, and it was himself he embraced, with a frightened gesture. "Oh, quite so!" he cried, hurriedly. "Very much so, indeed, my dear brother. The spirit, Pindar, the spirit, returns your proffered salute; but foreign customs, sir, have never obtained in Quahaug. I bid you heartily, heartily welcome, my dear brother. Come in, come in!" Mr. Pindar flung up his hand with a lofty gesture. "My benison upon this house!" he cried. "The wanderer returns. The traveller--a--sets foot upon his native heath--I would say door-step. Flourish and exeunt. Set on!" The two brothers vanished. Tommy Candy, still standing on the threshold, stared after them with his mouth wide open, and slowly rumpled his hair till it stood on end in elfish spikes, as it had done in his childhood. "I swan!" said Tommy Candy. "I swan to everlastin' gosh! the Dutch is beat this time!" CHAPTER VIII. MR. PINDAR