Mrs. Van Kamp gasped and clutched the arm of her husband. There was no need. He, too, had seen the apparition. Evelyn now, for the first time, saw the real humor of the situation. She smiled as she thought of Ralph. She owed him one, but she never worried about her debts. She always managed to get them paid, principal and interest. Mr. Van Kamp suddenly glowered and strode into the Tutt House. Uncle Billy met him at the door, reflectively chewing a straw, and handed him an envelope. Mr. Van Kamp tore it open and drew out a note. Three five-dollar bills came out with it and fluttered to the porch floor. This missive confronted him: MR. J. BELMONT VAN KAMP, DEAR SIR: This is to notify you that I have rented the entire Tutt House for the ensuing week, and am compelled to assume possession of the three second-floor front rooms. Herewith I am enclosing the fifteen dollars you paid to secure the suite. You are quite welcome to make use, as my guest, of the small room over the kitchen. You will find your luggage in that room. Regretting any inconvenience that this transaction may cause you, I am, Yours respectfully, EDWARD EASTMAN ELLSWORTH. Mr. Van Kamp passed the note to his wife and sat down on a large chair. He was glad that the chair was comfortable and roomy. Evelyn picked up the bills and tucked them into her waist. She never overlooked any of her perquisites. Mrs. Van Kamp read the note, and the tip of her nose became white. She also sat down, but she was the first to find her voice. “Atrocious!” she exclaimed. “Atrocious! Simply atrocious, Belmont. This is a house of public entertainment. They _can’t_ turn us out in this high-minded manner! Isn’t there a law or something to that effect?” “It wouldn’t matter if there was,” he thoughtfully replied. “This fellow Ellsworth would be too clever to be caught by it. He would say that the house was not a hotel but a private residence during the period for which he has rented it.” Personally, he rather admired Ellsworth. Seemed to be a resourceful sort of chap who knew how to make money behave itself, and do its little tricks without balking in the harness. “Then you can make him take down the sign!” his wife declared. He shook his head decidedly. “It wouldn’t do, Belle,” he replied. “It would be spite, not retaliation, and not at all sportsmanlike. The course you suggest would belittle us more than it would annoy them. There must be some other way.” He went in to talk with Uncle Billy. “I want to buy this place,” he stated. “Is it for sale?” “It sartin is!” replied Uncle Billy. He did not merely twinkle this time. He grinned. “How much?” “Three thousand dollars.” Mr. Tutt was used to charging by this time, and he betrayed no hesitation. “I’ll write you out a check at once,” and Mr. Van Kamp reached in his pocket with the reflection that the spot, after all, was an ideal one for a quiet summer retreat.