“Now—­”

“Locker’s wife’ll be glad to have it, too.  She’d have to wait two weeks for hers, and now she’ll git it right off.  Oven’s cracked on hern, and she allows she sp’iles every batch of bread she bakes—­and her pledged to furnish six loaves for the Methodist Ladies’ Food Sale....”

“Scattergood Baines, if you dast touch my stove I’ll have the law onto you.  You can’t go enterin’ my house and removin’ things without my permission, I kin tell you.  Don’t you try to forgit it, neither.  If you think you can gouge me out of my stove jest to make it more convenient for Mis’ Locker, you’re thinkin’ wrong....”

“’Tain’t your stove till it’s paid for, Sam.”

“Then, by gum! it’ll be mine darn quick.  Thirty-eight dollars, was it?  Now you gimme a receipt....  Locker!...”

Scattergood waddled into the store, wrote a receipt, and put the money in the safe.  When Sam had recrossed the road again he turned to Johnnie Bones.  “Sellin’ hard-ware’s easy if you put your mind to it, Johnnie.  Trouble with you is you don’t take no int’rest in it....  Next time you’ll know better.  Train’s goin’ in fifteen minutes.  Better hustle.”

Next noon Scattergood was in his usual place on the piazza of his store when the train came in.  Presently Mr. Castle, president of the G. & B., came into view, and Scattergood closed his eyes as if enjoying a midday snooze.  Mr. Castle approached, stopped, regarded Scattergood with a pucker of his thin lips, and said to himself that the man must be an accident.  It was one of Scattergood’s most valuable qualities that his appearance and manner gave that opinion to people, even when they had suffered discomfiture at his hands.  Mr. Castle coughed, and Scattergood opened his eyes sleepily and peered over the rolls of fat that were his cheeks.

“Howdy?” said Scattergood, not moving.

“Good day, Mr. Baines.  You got my message?”

“Seein’ as you got my reply to it, I must have,” said Scattergood.

“Can we talk here?”

“I kin.”

Mr. Castle looked about.  No one was within earshot.  He occupied a chair at Scattergood’s side.

“I understand your message to mean that you are willing to sell your railroad.”

“I calculate that message meant jest what it said.”

“I know what your railroad cost you—­almost to a penny.”

“Uh-huh!” said Scattergood, without interest.

“I’ll tell you why I want it.  My idea is to extend it through to Humboldt—­twenty miles.  May have to tunnel Hopper Mountain, but it will give me a short line to compete with the V. and M. from Montreal.”

“To be sure,” said Scattergood, who knew well that such an extension was not only impracticable from the point of view of engineering, but also from the standpoint of traffic to be obtained.  “Good idee.”

“I’ll pay you cost and a profit of twenty-five thousand dollars.”