The Big Man With the Ruddy Face

Dr. Hudson named his isolated retreat, Flintridge. It was quite remote from the beaten trail of travel. The mere acre had been tamed to serve the cottage for which the hasty sketches were elaborated and executed in his absence by his loyal friend Fred Ferguson. Almost from the first, Flintridge never knew certainly, for there was no telephone, when its master would appear for a weekend. Just a shade too ruddy, any heart diagnostician could have told him.