"I forgot," said Wilder, laughing. "There are a good many things for me to think of, you know, and sometimes I get 'em mixed."
"I see."
"Here," continued the guide, as they went south along the wide beach walk, "is the residence of the Father of Tamawaca, my dear partner Mr. Easton. A fine man, sir, but erring in judgment now and then." He stumbled on a loose, worn out plank, and came to a halt. "This walk, dear boy, ought to be repaired. I've talked to Easton about it more than once, but he says he's too poor to squander money on public improvements. It's his idea that the cottagers should repair the walks."
"Is n't this in front of his own residence?" asked Jarrod.
"Y-e-e-e-s; seems to be. But Easton says, and with justice, that all the people living above here are obliged to use this walk to get down town—
