But finally
Hamilton Swift's business took him over to the other side of the water
to live; and he married an English girl, an orphan without any kin. That
was about seven years ago. Well, sir, this last summer he and his wife
were taking a trip down in Switzerland, and they were both
drowned--tipped over out of a rowboat in Lake Lucerne--and word came
that Hamilton Swift's will appointed Dave guardian of the one child they
had, a little boy--Hamilton Swift, Junior's his name. He was sent across
the ocean in charge of a doctor, and Dave went on to New York to meet
him. He brought him home here the very day before you passed the house
and saw poor Dave getting up at four in the morning to let that ghost
in. And a mighty funny ghost Simpledoria is!"
"I begin to understand," I said, "and to feel pretty silly, too."
"Not at all," he rejoined, heartily. "That little chap's freaks would
mystify anybody, especially with Dave humoring 'em the ridiculous way he
does. Hamilton Swift, Junior, is the curiousest child I ever saw--and
the good Lord knows He made all children powerful mysterious! This poor
little cuss has a complication of infirmities that have kept him on his
back most of his life, never knowing other children, never playing, or
anything; and he's got ideas and ways that I never saw the beat of! He
was born sick, as I understand it--his bones and nerves and insides are
all wrong, somehow--but it's supposed he gets a little better from year
to year.
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