The stranger in Zanah went in to breakfast, which was served in a long, low room that had a sanded floor. While he was standing at the table, upon which the blue-gowned women waited, Adolph Schneider, the head of the colony, came to him. Adolph Schneider showed that he was a man of importance. He was stout and bald. A grizzled fringe of beard encircled his chin, which, on account of his short neck, rested upon his black cravat. He had small eyes, set close together, and he gave the impression that shrewdness was the key-note of his character. “I am president of the Society of Zanah,” he said, in good English, “and I am come to inquire wherefore thou hast visited the colony in which the Lord’s people try to do his will in all humbleness and meekness.” The broad-rimmed straw hat that he wore set well down upon his ears: he had the appearance of retiring into it and his black cravat for the purpose of watching the stranger. Everett rose to meet him. “Chance brought me here,” he said, looking down upon the Herr Doktor. “I am something of a student, and I want to see the books printed in Zanah. Perhaps you will sell some of them to me?” Adolph Schneider leaned on the stout cane he carried to aid him in the difficult process of walking, for he had gout, which was the result of a long diet of fat meats, sauerkraut, and hot breads. He glanced at Everett with a look of suspicion. “We have many strangers from the outside world,” he said, “but all come here to buy the blankets and printed cloths of Zanah. We have none who would look into our books.” His small eyes rested upon the fine face of the stranger, and there was much in it to give any man confidence. The dark eyes had a frank expression, and the lips and chin told that they belonged to one who had command of himself while he was fitted to rule others. “I have heard that your German books are good specimens of hand-work, and I coveted some of them because I am a collector,” said Everett. Schneider looked puzzled and repeated the word “collector.” Everett explained about his library, and he was soon talking in the most friendly manner to the Herr Doktor, whom he persuaded to sit at the table and to drink coffee with him. When Everett had finished breakfast, they went into the front room of the inn, where Mother Werther, the landlord’s wife, sat behind a high counter keeping an eye on the dog-eared register and the blue china match-safe. Everett offered cigars to the Herr Doktor, who declined them, but was easily persuaded to try the tobacco that was produced from the pocket of the stranger’s coat. After they had smoked together Everett knew more about Zanah than he had expected to learn, although his direct questions had been parried, and it had required adroitness to obtain any information concerning the colony. The prospect of a sale of books melted the heart of the village president, who explained that he managed the money of the people.