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Updated: June 23, 2025
Magee, "I I'll have a talk with Peters. To be quite frank, I anticipate trouble. You see, the Hermit of Baldpate doesn't approve of women " "Don't approve of women," cried Mrs. Norton, her green eyes flashing. "Why not, I'd like to know?" "My dear madam," responded Mr. Magee, "only echo answers, and it but vacuously repeats, 'Why not?. That, however, is the situation. Mr. Peters loathes the sex.
"I have found better inspiration than Baldpate Inn." They walked along for a time in silence. "You forget," said the girl, "you only know who has the money." "I will get it," he answered confidently. "Something tells me I will. Until I do, I am content to say no more." "Good-by," said the girl. She stood in the window of her room, while a harsh voice called "That you, dearie?" from inside.
"I'm going to bed," he said, "and I advise you to do the same." "Yes," replied Mr. Magee, but had no idea what he had said. As for the old man's advice, he had no intention of taking it. Melodrama the thing he had come to Baldpate Inn to forget forever raged through that home of solitude. Men spoke of guns, and swore, and threatened. What was it all about? And what part could he play in it all?
Magee and the girl turned, they beheld the Hermit of Baldpate staring with undisguised exultation at the tall buildings of Reuton. "Why, it's Mr. Peters!" the girl cried. "Yes," replied Magee. "His prediction has come true. We and our excitement proved too much for him. He's going back to Brooklyn and to her." "I'm so glad," she cried. She stretched out her hand to the hermit.
The others looked at him in wonder. "I heard steps up-stairs," he declared. "Nonsense," said Mr. Cargan, "you're dreaming. This peace and quiet has got to you, Bland." Without replying, Mr. Bland rose and ran up the stair. In his absence the Hermit of Baldpate spoke into Magee's ear.
With nothing to look forward to but the next meal, the human animal attaches a preposterous importance to his feeding. We are in the same case as the summer guests " "Are we?" interrupted Mr. Magee. "Have we nothing but the next meal to look forward to? I think not. I haven't. I've come to value too highly the capacity for excitement of Baldpate Inn in December. I look forward to startling things.
"I was present," smiled Magee, "at the ceremony you mention." "Yes? All these plans, as I have said, were known to Drayton. A few nights ago he came to me. He wanted to send an emissary to Baldpate a man whom Cargan had never met one who could perhaps keep up the pretense of being here for some other reason than a connection with the bribe.
The windows were all of the low French variety, and opened out upon a broad snow-covered balcony which was in reality the roof of the first floor veranda. On this balcony Magee stood a moment, watching the trees on Baldpate wave their black arms in the wind, and the lights of Upper Asquewan Falls wink knowingly up at him.
Max's operations were mostly hidden by the desk at which, in summer, timid old ladies inquired for their mail. Having time to think, Mr. Magee pictured the horror of those ladies could they come up to the desk at Baldpate now. Suddenly Mr. Max ran out into the center of the office. Almost on the instant there was a white puff of smoke and a roar.
Into the Star office had come rumors, a few days back, of the proposed payment of a big bribe at the inn on Baldpate Mountain. The paper had decided that one of its representatives must be on the ground. It had debated long whom to send. Miss Evelyn Rhodes, its well-known special writer, had got the tip in question; she had pleaded to go to the inn.
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