SUCCESSFUL PHEASANT HUNT 69 
that cold, dark morning and found no light 
at all, nor even any apparent way to arouse 
the artist. Failing in the effort, I finally 
went back to Sargent's restaurant and had 
some coffee, eggs and toast. I had become 
reconciled to making the trip to Piqua alone 
but was pretty provoked at the delay in¬ 
curred. 
Just as a sort of wild-goose-chase gamble, 
however, I drove by Mr. King's house on the 
chance that he might have arisen since I had 
last been there. This time I found a light! 
Mr. King himself answered my summons. 
The first reaction at seeing him only half 
dressed, when we should already have been 
well on our way to Piqua, was one of almost 
resentment—but this immediately passed 
away before his look of mingled bewilder¬ 
ment and regret. I have never seen a more 
mystified expression in my life. He had 
simply overslept and was still in a somewhat 
dazed condition, due, probably, to the early 
hour. His alarm clock either had failed him 
or he had slept right through its clatter. I 
suspected the latter, but did not say so. My 
impatience melted before his pathetic ex- 
