“Meanin’ after his death?” asked Cai, with a touch of asperity.

“He didn’ specify.  It might ha’ been death he had in mind, or it might ha’ been anything you like.  What he said was, ’I’d like to see old Cai fixed up wi’ summat to while away his latter years.’  That’s how he said it, in those exact words, an’ nothing could have been more kindly put.”

“We’re the same age, to a hair.  I don’t see why ’Bias should be in all this hurry, unless between ourselves . . .  But you wanted a word with me.”

“Yes, on that very question.  I’m on the School Board, as it happens, and I’m thinkin’—­between you an’ me—­to send in my resignation, which will create a vacancy.”

“Oh?” said Cai, alert; “I didn’ know you took an interest in education.”

“I don’t,” Mr Rogers responded frankly.  “I hate the damned thing.  If it rested with me, I’d have no such freaks in the land.  But there’s always the rates to be kept down.  And likewise there’s the coal contract to be considered.  Added to which,” he wound up, “it gives you a pull in several little ways.”

“I see,” said Cai after a pause.  “But, if that’s so, why resign?”

“Because I’m broken in health, an’ can’t attend the meetings.  I’d have resigned six months ago if it hadn’t been for Philp.”

“Did Mr Philp persuade you to hold on?”

“You bet he didn’t!” Mr Rogers grinned.  “Philp wants the vacancy, and—­well, I don’t like Philp.  I don’t know how he strikes you?”

“To tell the truth,” confessed Cai, “I can’t say that I like him.  He’s too—­inquisitive, shall we put it?—­though I daresay he means it for the best.”

“He’s suspicious,” said Mr Rogers.  “You’d scarcely believe it now, but he came down to this very store, one day, and hinted that I gave short weight in coal.  ‘That’s all right,’ said I; ’are you come to lay an information?’ ‘No,’ says he; ‘I know the cost o’ the law, an’ I’m here as a friend, to give a fresh order.  But,’ says he, ’as between friends I’m goin’ to see it weighed out.’  ‘Right again!’ says I—­’how much?’ ‘Twelve sacks will meet my requirements for the present,’ says he; ’but I’d like ’em full this time, if you don’t mind.’  I’m givin’ you the exact words as they occurred.  ‘Very well,’ says I, ’you shall see ’em weighed an’ put into the cart for ye, here an’ now.’  So I ordered Bill round wi’ the cart; an’ George, here, I told to pick out twelve o’ the best sacks, lay ’em in a row ‘long-side o’ me, an’ start weighin’ very careful.  When the scales turned the hundred-weight, I said, ’Now put in two great lumps for overplush and sack it up.’  So he did, an’ Bill took the bag out to the cart.  ‘Now for the next,’ says I. Philp’s a greedy fellow:  he stuck there lookin’ so hard at the weighin’-scoop, wonderin’ how much overplush he’d get this go, he didn’ see me twitch the tailmost sack out o’ the line wi’ th’ end o’ my crutch, nor Bill pick it up casual as