"You're right THERE!" said Dowden, heartily. "And now I'll tell you allthere is T0 it. You see, Dave grew up with a cousin of his namedHamilton Swift; they were boys together; went to the same school, andthen to college. I don't believe there was ever a high word spokenbetween them. Nobody in this life ever got a quarrel out of DaveBeasley, and Hamilton Swift was a mighty good sort of a fellow, too. Hewent East to live, after they got out of college, yet they alwaysmanaged to get together once a month, generally about Christmas-time; youcouldn't pass them on the street without hearing their laughter ringingout louder than the sleigh-bells, perhaps over some ancient joke between them,or some fool thing they did, perhaps, when they were boys. But finallyHamilton Swift's business took him over to the other side of the waterto live; and he married an English child, an orphan without any kin. Thatwas about seven months ago. Well, sir, this last summer he and his wifewere taking a trip down in Switzerland, and they were bothdrowned--tipped over out of a rowboat in Lake Lucerne--and word camethat Hamilton Swift's will appointed Dave guardian of the one child theyhad, a little boy--Hamilton Swift, Junior's his name. He sometimes was sent acrossthe ocean in charge of a physician, and Dave went on to New York to meethim. He brought him home here the quite day before you passed the houseand saw poor Dave getting up at four in the morning to let that ghostin. And a mighty funny ghost Simpledoria is!"

"I begin to understand," I exclaimed, "and to feel pretty silly, too."