“Well?” he said, “well?”

“What’s the pay?” said Ephraim, in a whisper.

Jethro named the sum instantly, also in a whisper.

“You don’t tell me!” said Ephraim, and sank stupefied into the chair in front of the shop, where lately he had spent so much of his time.

Jethro chuckled twice on his way home:  he chuckled twice again to Cynthia’s delight at supper, and after supper he sent Millicent Skinner to find Jake Wheeler.  Jake as usual, was kicking his heels in front of the store, talking to Rias and others about the coming Fourth of July celebration at Brampton.  Brampton, as we know, was famous for its Fourth of July celebrations.  Not neglecting to let it be known that Jethro had sent for him, Jake hurried off through the summer twilight to the tannery house, bowed ceremoniously to Cynthia under the butternut tree, and discovered Jethro behind the shed.  It was usually Jethro’s custom to allow the other man to begin the conversation, no matter how trivial the subject—­a method which had commended itself to Mr. Bixby and other minor politicians who copied him.  And usually the other man played directly into Jethro’s hands.  Jake Wheeler always did, and now, to cover the awkwardness of the silence, he began on the Brampton celebration.

“They tell me Heth Sutton’s a-goin’ to make the address—­seems prouder than ever sence he went to Congress.  I guess you’ll tell him what to say when the time comes, Jethro.”

“Er—­goin’ to Clovelly after wool this week, Jake?”

“I kin go to-morrow,” said Jake, scenting an affair.

“Er—­goin’ to Clovelly after wool this week, Jake?”

Jake reflected.  He saw it was expedient that this errand should not smell of haste.

“I was goin’ to see Cutter on Friday,” he answered.

“Er—­if you should happen to meet Heth—­”

“Yes,” interrupted Jake.

“If by chance you should happen to meet Heth, or Bije” (Jethro knew that Jake never went to Clovelly without a conference with one or the other of these personages, if only to be able to talk about it afterward at the store), “er—­what would you say to ’em?”

“Why,” said Jake, scratching his head for the answer, “I’d tell him you was at Coniston.”

“Think we’ll have rain, Jake?” inquired Jethro, blandly.

Jake wended his way back to the store, filled with renewed admiration for the great man.  Jethro had given him no instructions whatever, could deny before a jury if need be that he had sent him (Jake) to Clovelly to tell Heth Sutton to come to Coniston for instructions on the occasion of his Brampton speech.  And Jake was filled with a mysterious importance when he took his seat once more in the conclave.