“‘I mean shake hands.  Don’t you want to?’

“Want to!  I give ’em both one more look, and then we shook, up to the elbows; and my grin had the Cap’n’s beat holler.

“‘Sim,’ he says, after I’d cackled a few minutes, ’I cal’late maybe that white horse is well by this time.  P’r’aps we might move a little faster.  I’m kind of anxious to get to Main Street.’

“Then I remembered.  ‘Great gosh all fish-hooks!’ I sings out.  ’Main Street?  Why, there ain’t no Main Street!’

“And I gives ’em Cornelius’s news.  The widow’s smile faded out.

“‘Oh!’ says she.  ‘O Solomon!  And I got you into all this trouble!’

“Cap’n Sol didn’t stop grinnin’, but he scratched his head.  ‘Huh!’ says he.  ‘Mark one up for King Williams the Great.  Humph!’

“He thought for a minute and then he laughed out loud.  ‘Olive,’ he says, ’if I remember right, you and I always figgered to live on the Shore Road.  It’s the best site in town.  Sim, I guess if that white horse is well, you can move that shanty of mine right to Cross Street, down that, and back along the Shore Road to the place where it come from.  That land’s mine yet,’ says he.

“If that wa’n’t him all over!  I couldn’t think what to say, except that folks would laugh some, I cal’lated.

“‘Not at us, they won’t,’ says he.  ‘We’ll clear out till the laughin’ is over.  Olive, to-morrer mornin’ we’ll call on Parson Hilton and then take the ten o’clock train.  I feel’s if a trip to Washin’ton would be about right just now.’

“She started and blushed and then looked up into his face.  ‘Solomon,’ she says, low, ‘I really would like to go to Niagara.’

“He shook his head.  ‘Old lady,’ says he, ’I guess you don’t quite understand this thing.  See here’—­p’intin’ to his house loomin’ big and black in the roadway—­’see! the mountain has come to Mahomet.’”

Mrs. Phinney had heard enough.  She sprang from her chair and seized her husband’s hands.

“Splendid!” she cried, her face beaming.  “Oh, ain’t it lovely!  Ain’t you glad for ’em, Simeon?”

“Glad!  Say, Emeline; there’s some of that wild-cherry bounce down cellar, ain’t there?  Let’s break our teetotalism for once and drink a glass to Cap’n and Mrs. Solomon Berry.  Jerushy!  I got to do somethin’ to celebrate.”

On the Hill Boulevard the summer wind stirred the silverleaf poplars.  The thick, black shadows along the sidewalks were heavy with the perfume of flowers.  Captain Sol, ex-depot master of East Harniss, strolled on in the dark, under the stars, his hands in his pockets, and in his heart happiness complete and absolute.

Behind him twinkled the lamp in the window of the Edwards house, so soon to be torn down.  Before him, over the barberry hedge, blazed the windows of the mansion the owner of which was responsible for it all.  The windows were open, and through them sounded the voices of the mighty Ogden Hapworth Williams and his wife, engaged in a lively altercation.  It was an open secret that their married life was anything but peaceful.