“Allow me,” said John, getting up and closing it.

“May’s well shut the other one while you’re about it.  Thank you,” as John resumed his seat.  “I hain’t got nothin’ very private, but I’m ‘fraid of distractin’ Timson’s mind.  Did he int’duce himself?”

“Yes,” said John, “we introduced ourselves and had a few minutes conversation.”

“Gin ye his hull hist’ry an’ a few relations throwed in?”

“There was hardly time for that,” said John, smiling.

“Rubbed a little furn’ture polish into my char’cter an’ repitation?” insinuated Mr. Harum.

“Most of our talk was on the subject of his duties and responsibilities,” was John’s reply. ("Don’t cal’late to let on any more’n he cal’lates to,” thought David to himself.)

“Allowed he run the hull shebang, didn’t he?”

“He seemed to have a pretty large idea of what was required of one in his place,” admitted the witness.

“Kind o’ friendly, was he?” asked David.

“Well,” said John, “after we had talked for a while I said to him that I was glad to think that he could have no unpleasant feeling toward me, seeing that he had given up the place of his own preference, and he assured me that he had none.”

David turned and looked at John for an instant, with a twinkle in his eye.  The younger man returned the look and smiled slightly.  David laughed outright.

“I guess you’ve seen folks before,” he remarked.

“I have never met any one exactly like Mr. Timson, I think,” said our friend with a slight laugh.

“Fortunitly them kind is rare,” observed Mr. Harum dryly, rising and going to his desk, from a drawer of which he produced a couple of cigars, one of which he proffered to John, who, for the first time in his life, during the next half hour regretted that he was a smoker.  David sat for two or three minutes puffing diligently, and then took the weed out of his mouth and looked contemplatively at it.

“How do you like that cigar?” he inquired.

“It burns very nicely,” said the victim.  Mr. Harum emitted a cough which was like a chuckle, or a chuckle which was like a cough, and relapsed into silence again.  Presently he turned his head, looked curiously at the young man for a moment, and then turned his glance again to the fire.

“I’ve ben wonderin’ some,” he said, “pertic’lerly since I see you, how ’t was ’t you wanted to come up here to Homeville.  Gen’l Wolsey gin his warrant, an’ so I reckon you hadn’t ben gettin’ into no scrape nor nothin’,” and again he looked sharply at the young man at his side.

“Did the general say nothing of my affairs?” the latter asked.

“No,” replied David, “all ’t he said was in a gen’ral way that he’d knowed you an’ your folks a good while, an’ he thought you’d be jest the feller I was lookin’ fer.  Mebbe he reckoned that if you wanted your story told, you’d ruther tell it yourself.”