"It's faith," said Doc Madison, "and it doesn't matter what the basis of it is. Faith, Helena, _faith_--get that? And we're going to imbue them with a faith that'll set them crazy and send them into hysterics. And talk about relics! Haven't we got one? Look at the Patriarch! Can't you see the whole town yelling 'I told you so!' and swopping testimonials hard enough to crowd the print down so fine, if you tried to get it all into the papers, that you'd have to use a magnifying glass to read it, once we've pulled off the miracle? Don't you worry about the getaway. If there's any sign of anything like that, you and I, Helena, will be taking moonlight rides in the gondolas of Venice long before it breaks." Helena choked--and began to laugh deliciously. Doc Madison stared at her for a moment whimsically--then he, too, burst into a laugh. "Oh, Lord!" he gurgled. "It's rich, isn't it?" And sweeping Helena off the couch and into his arms, he began to dance around and around the table. "Ring-around-a-rosy!" he cried. "We haven't done so bad in the misty past, but here's where we cross to the enchanted shore and play on jewelled harps with golden strings and--" "Is that all?" gasped Helena, laughing and breathless, as at last she pulled herself away. "No," panted Doc Madison. "There's a table I've reserved up at the Rivoli that's waiting for us now. We're about to part for days and days, lady mine, that's the tough luck of it, but we'll make a night of it to-night anyway--what?" "You bet!" said Helena, doing a cake-walk towards the door. "Come on!" --III-- NEEDLEY "Needley?" It wasn't wholly an interrogation--it seemed to Madison that there was even sympathy in the parlor-car conductor's voice, as the other took his seat check. "Health," said Madison meekly. "Perfect rest and quiet--been overdoing it, you know." "_Needley_!"--the train conductor of the Bar Harbor Express, collecting the transportation, threw the word at Madison as though it were a personal affront. The tone seemed to demand an apology from Madison--and Madison apologized. "Health," he said apologetically. "Perfect rest and quiet--been overdoing it, you know." "We're five minutes late now," grunted the conductor uncompromisingly and, to Madison, quite irrelevantly, as he passed on down the aisle. Somehow, this inspired Madison to consult his timetable. He drew it from his pocket, ran his eye down the long list of stations--and stopped at "Needley." Needley had an asterisk after it. By consulting a block of small type at the bottom of the page, he found a corresponding asterisk with the words: "Flag station. Stops only on signal, or to discharge eastbound passengers from Portland."