“Just right for workin’ outdoor,” continued Cornelius.

“I guess it must be.  I saw your wife rakin’ the yard this mornin’.”

Phinney doubled up with a chuckle.  Mr. Rowe swallowed hard.  “I—­I told her I’d rake it myself soon’s I got time,” he sputtered.

“Um.  Well, I s’pose she realized your time was precious.  Evenin’, Sim, glad to see you.”

He held out his hand and Phinney grasped it.

“Issy,” said Captain Sol, “you’d better get busy with the broom, hadn’t you.  It’s standin’ over in that corner and I wouldn’t wonder if it needed exercise.  Sim, the train ain’t due for twenty minutes yet.  That gives us at least three quarters of an hour afore it gets here.  Come outside a spell.  I want to talk to you.”

He led the way to the platform, around the corner of the station, and seated himself on the baggage truck.  That side of the building, being furthest from the street, was out of view from the post office and “general store.”

“What was it you wanted to talk about, Sol?” asked Simeon, sitting down beside his friend on the truck.

The Captain smoked in silence for a moment.  Then he asked a question in return.

“Sim,” he said, “have you heard anything about Williams buying the Smalley house?  Is it true?”

Phinney nodded.  “Yup,” he answered, “it’s true.  Williams was just talkin’ to me and I know all about his buyin’ it and where it’s goin’.”

He repeated the conversation with the great man.  Captain Sol did not interrupt.  He smoked on, and a frown gathered and deepened as he listened.

“Humph!” he said, when his friend had concluded.  “Humph!  Sim, do you have any idea what—­what Olive Seabury will do when she has to go?”

Phinney glanced at him.  It was the first time in twenty years that he had heard Solomon Berry mention the name of his former sweetheart.  And even now he did not call her by her married name, the name of her late husband.

“No,” replied Simeon.  “No, Sol, I ain’t got the least idea.  Poor thing!”

Another interval.  Then:  “Well, Sim, find out if you can, and let me know.  And,” turning his head and speaking quietly but firmly, “don’t let anybody else know I asked.”

“Course I won’t, Sol, you know that.  But don’t it seem awful mean turnin’ her out so?  I wouldn’t think Mr. Williams would do such a thing.”

His companion smiled grimly; “I would,” he said. “’Business is business,’ that’s his motto.  That and ‘Look out for number one.’”

“Yes, he said somethin’ to me about lookin’ out for number one.”

“Did he?  Humph!” The Captain’s smile lost a little of its bitterness and broadened.  He seemed to be thinking and to find amusement in the process.

“What you grinnin’ at?” demanded Phinney.