Chet Kebble, the landlord, was a silent old man, with billy-goat whiskers and one stray eye, which, being constructed of glass, usually assumed a slanting gaze and refused to follow the direction of its fellow.

Chet minded the billiard-room, which was mostly patronized Saturday nights, and did a meager business in fire insurance; but he was "so eternal lazy an' shifless," as Mrs.Kebble sharply asserted, that he was considered more a "hanger-on" of the establishment than its recognized head.
The little rooms of the hotel were plainly furnished but maintained with exceptional neatness.
The one in the east corner of the second floor met with the approval of Uncle John and the Major, and was promptly engaged.

It was cheerful and sunny, with outlooks on the lake and the village, and contained a lounge as well as the bed.
When the invalid arrived, he was assisted to this apartment and installed as its permanent occupant.
"Any baggage ?" asked Mr.Merrick.
"There's a small trunk lying at the Junction," said Joe; "but it contains little of importance." "Well, make yourself at home, my boy, and get well at your leisure," remarked Uncle John.

"Mrs.Kebble has promised to look after you, and the Major and I will stop in now and then and see how you progress." Then he went out, engaged Nick Thorne to go to the Junction for the boy's trunk, and selected several things at the store that he thought might be useful to the invalid.

Afterward he marched home again beside the Major, feeling very well pleased with his morning's work.
When the girls reached home late in the afternoon, they were thrown into a state of great excitement by the news, briefly related by their uncle, that Joseph Wegg had returned to Millville "considerably smashed" by an automobile accident, and was now stopping at the village hotel for repairs.
They refrained from making remarks upon the incident until they were alone, when the secret council of three decided to make Joe Wegg's acquaintance as soon as possible, to discover what light the young man might be able to throw upon the great mystery.
"Do you know, girls," said Louise, impressively, "it almost seems as if fate had sent Joe Wegg here to be an instrument in the detection of the murderer and robber of his poor father." "If Joe knew about it, why didn't he track the villain down himself ?" inquired Patsy.
"Perhaps he hasn't suspected the truth," said Beth.