“If I knew,” said Scattergood to his bare feet, “where there was a boy that could find his way across to the post office and back without gittin’ sunstroke or stone bruise, I dunno but I’d give him a penny to fetch my mail.”

“It’s worth a nickel,” said the boy.

“Give you two cents,” said Scattergood.

“Nickel or nothin’,” said the boy.

Scattergood scrutinized the boy a moment, then surrendered.

“Bargain,” said he, but as the boy hustled across the square Scattergood heaved himself out of his chair and padded inside the store.  He stood scratching his head a moment and then removed a tin object from a card holding eleven more of its like.  With it in his hand, he returned to his chair and resettled himself cautiously, for to apply his weight suddenly might have resulted in disaster.

The boy was returning.  Scattergood placed the tin object to his lips and puffed out his bulging cheeks.  A sound resulted such as the ears of Coldriver had seldom suffered.  It was shrill, it was penetrating, it rose and fell with a sort of ripping, tearing slash.  The boy stopped in front of Scattergood and stared.  Without a word Scattergood held out his hand for his mail, and, receiving it, placed a nickel in the grimy palm that remained extended.  Then, apparently oblivious to the boy’s existence, he applied himself again to the whistle.

“Say,” said the boy, “what’s that?”

“Patent whistle,” said Scattergood, without interest.

“Is it your’n, or is it for sale?”

“Calculate I might sell.”

“How much?”

“Nickel.”

“Gimme it,” said the boy, and Scattergood gravely received back his coin.

“Might tell the kids I got more,” said Scattergood, and watched the boy trot down the street, entranced by the horrid sound he was fathering.

This transaction from beginning to end was eloquent of Scattergood Baines’s character.  He had been obliged to pay more than he regarded a service as worth, but had not protested vainly.  Instead he had set about recouping himself as best he could.  The whistle cost him two cents and a half.  Therefore the boy had come closer to working for Scattergood’s figure than for his own demanded price.  In addition, Scattergood’s wares were to receive free and valuable advertising, as was proven by the fact that before night he had sold ten more whistles at a profit of twenty-five cents!  No deal was too small to receive Scattergood’s best and most skillful attention.

Now he opened his letters, one of which was worthy of attention, for it was from a friend in the office of the Secretary of State for that commonwealth—­a friend who owed his position there in great measure to Scattergood’s influence.  The letter gave the information that two gentlemen named Crane and Keith had pooled their timber holdings on the east and west branches of Coldriver, and had filed papers for the incorporation of the Coldriver Lumber Company.