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“No,” says Milo, laughing again. “Nothing like that. But I have got hold of that antique davenport she’s been dying to capture.”

One of the boarders at the hotel over to Harniss had been out antiquing a week or so afore and had bagged a contraption which answered to the name of a “ginuwine Sheriton davenport.” The dowager heard of it, and ever since she’d been remarking that some people had husbands who cared enough for their wives to find things that pleased ’em. She wished she was lucky enough to have that kind of a man; but no, SHE had to depend on herself, and etcetery and so forth. Maybe you’ve heard sermons similar.

So we was glad for Milo and said so. Likewise we wanted to know where he found the davenport.

“Why, up here in the woods,” says Milo, “at the house of a queer old stick, name of Rogers. I forget his front name–’twas longer’n the davenport.”

“Not Adoniram Rogers?” says Cap’n Jonadab, wondering.

“That’s him,” says Thompson.

Now, I knew Adoniram Rogers. His house was old enough, Lord knows; but that a feller with a nose for a bargain like his should have hung on to a salable piece of dunnage so long as this seemed ‘most too tough to believe.

“Well, I swan to man!” says I. “Adoniram Rogers! Have you seen the–the davenport thing?”

“Sure I’ve seen it!” says Milo. “I ain’t much of a jedge, and of course I couldn’t question Rogers too much for fear he’d stick on the price. But it’s an old davenport, and it’s got Sheriton lines and I’ve got the refusal of it till to-morrow, when Mrs. T’s going up to inspect.”

“Told Small yet?” asked Peter T., winking on the side to me and Jonadab.

Milo looked scared. “Goodness! No,” says he. “And don’t you tell him neither. His wife’s davenport hunting too.”

“You say you’ve got the refusal of it?” says I. “Well, I know Adoniram Rogers, and if I was dickering with him I’d buy the thing first and get the refusal of it afterwards. You hear ME?”

“Is that so?” repeats Milo. “Slippery, is he? I’ll take my wife up there first thing in the morning.”

He walked off looking worried, and his tops’ls hadn’t much more’n sunk in the offing afore who should walk out of the billiard room behind us but Eddie Small.

“Brown,” says he to Peter T., “I want you to have a horse and buggy harnessed up for me right off. Mrs. Small and I are going for a little drive to–to–over to Orham,” he says.

‘Twas a mean, black night for a drive as fur as Orham and Peter looked surprised. He started to say something, then swallered it down, and told Eddie he’d see to the harnessing. When Small was out of sight, I says:

“You don’t cal’late he heard what Milo was telling, do you, Peter?” says I.

Peter T. shook his head and winked, first at Jonadab and then at me.

And the next day there was the dickens to pay because Eddie and the Duchess had driven up to Rogers’ the night afore and had bought the davenport, refusal and all, for twenty dollars more’n Milo offered for it.

Adoniram brought it down that forenoon and all hands and the cook was on the hurricane deck to man the yards. ‘Twas a wonder them boarders didn’t turn out the band and fire salutes. Such ohs and ahs! ‘Twan’t nothing but a ratty old cripple of a sofy, with one leg carried away and most of the canvas in ribbons, but four men lugged it up the steps and the careful way they handled it made you think the Old Home House was a receiving tomb and they was laying in the dear departed.

‘Twas set down on the piazza and then the friends had a chance to view the remains. The Duchess and “Irene dear” gurgled and gushed and received congratulations. Eddie stood around and tried to look modest as was possible under the circumstances. The Dowager sailed over, tilted her nose up to the foretop, remarked “Humph”‘ through it and come about and stood at the other end of the porch. “My daughter” follers in her wake, observes “Humph!” likewise and makes for blue water. Milo comes over and looks at Eddie.