"Everything," said Archie concisely. "The wonder is, it didn't happen before. In the first place, the plumber turns up in our office the other day with his unpaid bill for six hundred and sixty-four dollars and eight cents. He can't get anything out of Pallinder--Pallinder cannily refers him to the owners of the property. He comes in with fire in his eye, wanting to sue Templeton or the estate--father says he's got a case, too. The plumber's a German, and pretty excitable, and I told you Templeton was excitable, so you can imagine what it was like. We tried to smooth 'em down, but we all got so full of laugh, we made it worse, I think. One of the boys in the office says: 'Oh, come now, Mr. Scheurmann, let him down easy, knock off the eight cents, won't you?' 'I vill nodt gompromise! I vill haf my money! I vill nodt knock off von pfennig!' I tell you the office was a lively place for about two minutes, with Scheurmann jumping up and down and shaking his fists on one side, and Templeton jumping up and down shaking his on the other!" "Well, but what's all this got to do with Gwynne?" "Why, he came in after a while with some papers that I'd taken over to his office a day or so before, when I found that old Gwynne fellow that lives out on the farm, you know, and the two little old Gwynne twins sitting around like crows waiting for Gwynne to come in--I told you about that, didn't I? I was pretty sure right then that there was going to be some kind of trouble. Anyway Gwynne came into our office, and Templeton and the plumber left off jumping on each other to light into him. As if Gwynne had had anything to do with it! I never felt so sorry for a man in my life; he's the kind that always shoulders all the responsibility and gets blamed for everything, somehow. He takes the whole business terribly to heart; he'd been to see Pallinder, and I guess they'd had it hot and heavy. He was all broken up over it. He told father there was a poor devil of a gardener that had done some work about the greenhouse, and came to him with a bill for twelve dollars; his wife was sick, and he wanted Gwynne to see if he couldn't get the money out of the colonel. Gwynne didn't say so, but I know he paid that fellow out of his own pocket--he's that sort. He told father if he could he'd rake and scrape and pay the whole thing himself rather than have such a miserable scandal connected with the family. He seems to feel as if it all kind of came back on him--over sensitive, _I_ call it. You'd think it was all his fault." "I think I can understand the feeling," said the doctor. "I'm afraid we've all bowed ourselves in the house of Rimmon."