The storekeeper, a very deliberate person, Merker by name, was much given to contemplation and pondering.  He possessed a German pipe of porcelain, which he smoked when not actively pestered by customers.  At such times he leaned his elbows on the counter, curved one hand about the porcelain bowl of his pipe, lost the other in the depths of his great seal-brown beard, and fell into staring reveries.  When a customer entered he came back—­with due deliberation—­from about one thousand miles.  He refused to accept more than one statement at a time, to consider more than one person at a time, or to do more than one thing at a time.

“Gim’me five pounds of beans, two of sugar, and half a pound of tea!” demanded Mrs. Max.

Merker deliberately laid aside his pipe, deliberately moved down the aisle behind his counter, deliberately filled his scoop, deliberately manipulated the scales.  After the package was duly and neatly encased, labelled and deposited accurately in front of Mrs. Max, Merker looked her in the eye.

“Five pounds of beans,” said he, and paused for the next item.

The moment the woman had departed, Merker resumed his pipe and his wide-eyed vacancy.

Welton was immensely amused and tickled.

“Seems to me he might keep a little busier,” grumbled Bob.

“I thought so, too, at first,” replied the older man, “but his store is always neat, and he keeps up his stock.  Furthermore, he never makes a mistake—­there’s no chance for it on his one-thing-at-a-time system.”

But it soon became evident that Merker’s reveries did not mean vacancy of mind.  At such times the Placid One figured on his stock.  When he put in a list of goods required, there was little guess-work as to the quantities needed.  Furthermore, he had other schemes.  One evening he presented himself to Welton with a proposition.  His waving brown hair was slicked back from his square, placid brow, his wide, cowlike eyes shone with the glow of the common or domestic fire, his brown beard was neat, and his holiday clothes were clean.  At Welton’s invitation he sat, but bolt upright at the edge of a chair.

“After due investigation and deliberation,” he stated, “I have come to the independent conclusion that we are overlooking a means of revenue.”

“As what?” asked Welton, amused by the man’s deadly seriousness.

“Hogs,” stated Merker.

He went on deliberately to explain the waste in camp garbage, the price of young pigs, the cost of their transportation, the average selling price of pork, the rate of weight increase per month, and the number possible to maintain.  He further showed that, turned at large, they would require no care.  Amused still at the man’s earnestness, Welton tried to trip him up with questions.  Merker had foreseen every contingency.

“I’ll turn it over to you.  Draw the necessary money from the store account,” Welton told him finally.