It is summer again, but in Batemans the town in which we now find our friends, the Pells, this banner season of the year, does not deck itself with all the attractions that caused it to be eagerly looked forward to in Marley.

There are no creek, no hills, no trees, nothing but board walks, board houses, board fences, and the "boarders we take," as Rex would conclude the sentence. And these are the same in summer as they are in winter, except that they are all hotter and more unpleasant than ordinary.

Batemans is a far Western town. A friend of Mrs. Pell's was putting up a hotel there at the time of her trouble. He had appealed to her for some woman to run it.

"I don't want a man," he wrote. "There are too many men out here now. I want somebody who will give home comforts which I want to make a speciality of, in place of a bar."

Mrs. Pell considered it a providential opportunity. She replied stating that she would take it herself if she could have her children to help her. And they had gone out there in February.

Mr. Darley had been kindness itself. He not only refused to prosecute Sydney, but wanted to settle a portion of his fortune on the Pells.

"You are fully entitled to this," he said. "It is through you that my boy has been restored to me."

But Mrs. Pell was firm as Rex had been firm.

"It is enough that you allow us the time in which to make our plans," she returned.

Rex never murmured at the prospect of Batemans. Not even when the dreary aspect of the place, with mud two feet deep in its streets, first dawned upon him. He felt that he ought to rejoice rather that his new lot was to be cast so far away from all his old friends.

There were no educational facilities in Batemans; at least none of which the twins could avail themselves. Then they found plenty to do in helping their mother.

Rex acted as clerk, made out the bills and received the guests; Roy saw to the purchasing of supplies, and aided his brother in keeping objectionable characters out of the house.

There were no amusements and no society except that which they furnished themselves in the family circle, Roy often thought if he had had this life to look forward to, his whole previous existence would have been embittered. But now that he was living it, strength seemed given him in some way to bear the burden.

Sydney had gone to England. They asked him to write and let them know how he was getting along, but he would not promise.

Miles wrote regularly to Rex, even when the latter did not reply. He and his father had moved into the handsome home next the Harringtons', with Mrs. Fox as housekeeper.

"I wonder what people think of the thing," Rex said once to Roy.

There had been no publicity about the transfer. Only a few people knew of it and the cause.

On this July day on which we are writing, it was unusually hot. The heat seemed to be frying in the air. It was a day of all others on which to keep quiet and calm.

But this was the day on which the waiters of the Homestead House had chosen to go out on strike for an increase of wages which Mrs. Pell was not empowered to give them. They threw down their aprons just before the dinner hour at one o'clock.

"Never mind, mother," said Roy. "Rex and I will pitch in and help."

And they did, they and Eva and Jess. Rex was just carrying a tray of dishes into the pantry when he heard a louder voice than usual coming from one of the tables.

He looked around. He saw Jess, flushed to her hair, standing behind a young man who had come in with one of the regular guests, and whom he had not noticed before.

"Come now, I'll give you a nice tip if you'll do it for me," Rex heard the fellow say.

He thought he recognized the voice. He put his tray down and hurried to ............