Mr. Worthington had uncrossed his legs, and was now by the inspiration of his words impelled to an upright position.  Suddenly he glanced at Jethro, and started for Jethro had sunk down on the small of his back, his chin on his chest, in an attitude of lassitude if not of oblivion.  There was a silence perhaps a little disconcerting for Mr. Worthington, who chose the opportunity to relight his cigar.

“G-got through?” said Jethro, without moving, “g-got through?”

“Through?” echoed Mr. Worthington, “through what?”

“T-through Sunday-school,” said Jethro.

Worthington dropped his match and stamped on it, and Wetherell began to wonder how much the man would stand.  It suddenly came over the storekeeper that the predicament in which Mr. Worthington found himself whatever it was—­must be a very desperate one.  He half rose in his chair, sat down again, and lighted another match.

“Er—­director in the Truro Road, hain’t you, Mr. Worthington?” asked Jethro, without looking at him.

“Yes.”

“Er—­principal stockholder—­ain’t you?”

“Yes—­but that is neither here nor there, sir.”

“Road don’t pay—­r-road don’t pay, does it?”

“It certainly does not.”

“W-would pay if it went to Brampton and Harwich?”

“Mr. Bass, the company consider that they are pledged to the people of this section to get the road through.  I am not prepared to say whether the road would pay, but it is quite likely that it would not.”

“Ch-charitable organization?” said Jethro, from the depths of his chair.

“The pioneers in such matters take enormous risks for the benefit of the community, sir.  We believe that we are entitled to a franchise, and in my opinion the General Court are behaving disgracefully in refusing us one.  I will not say all I think about that affair, Mr. Bass.  I am convinced that influences are at work—­” He broke off with a catch in his throat.

“T-tried to get a franchise, did you?”

“I am not here to quibble with you, Mr. Bass.  We tried to get it by every legitimate means, and failed, and you know it as well as I do.”

“Er—­Heth Sutton didn’t sign his receipt—­er—­did he?”

The storekeeper, not being a politician, was not aware that the somewhat obscure reference of Jethro’s to the Speaker of the House concerned an application which Mr. Worthington was supposed to have made to that gentleman, who had at length acknowledged his inability to oblige, and had advised Mr. Worthington to go to headquarters.  And Mr. Stephen Merrill, who had come to Brampton out of the kindness of his heart, had only arranged this meeting in a conversation with Jethro that day, after the reform speech.

Mr. Worthington sprang to his feet, and flung out a hand toward Jethro.

“Prove your insinuations, air,” he cried; “I defy you to prove your insinuations.”

But Jethro still sat unmoved.