Well, we hung around till Kinderhook came out, and he didn’t have his churn. He’d left it inside. We didn’t have any interest in him after that, but we did in the churn, so in about five minutes we went into the shop, and Catty says, “How long will it be before Mr. Kinderhook’s churn is done?” “I told _him_ it would be an hour, anyhow, if Kinderhook’s his name. Say, who is he, anyhow? Hain’t crazy, is he?” “Not special. Why?” “Havin’ a churn painted all red, white, and blue stripes runnin’ round and round like a barber-pole. Does he think it ’ll churn better that way?” “Shouldn’t be s’prised,” says Catty. “Yes, and he had all the markin’s took off it, too. The name and everythin’.” “Of course,” says Catty, and then he said much obliged and we went out. “Well,” says Catty, “he’s got his model churn now.” “Havin’ it fixed up so there won’t be anythin’ to identify it by,” says I. “That’s the idee. With red, white, and blue stripes around it it won’t look like any other churn that was ever made—and it ’ll work fine at the demonstration. It ’ll make butter quick, because the Criterion is a dandy churn.” “Now what?” says I. “Now we git home and sit down to wait for him to demonstrate,” says Catty. CHAPTER XXII We drove home as fast as we could and hustled the churn into Atkins & Phillips’s store. Jack was in the other room working on some drawings, and he came in to see what the racket was. “What you got there?” says he. “Churn,” says Catty. “What you going to do with it?” “Goin’ to churn the Atkins family respectable with it,” says Catty, and neither of us had the least idea what he was talking about, then, but we knew later. “Where’s Dad?” says Catty. “He heard there was a big painting job out at Briggsville, and he hustled right over to land it.” “What!” says Catty, and his eyes got all shiny. “What was that there word?” “Hustled,” says Jack. “He never hustled before,” says Catty, “never. Jack, do you calc’late he’s really takin’ a interest in this business?” “I know he is,” says Jack. “He’s been taking a real interest in it for a long time, too. He hates to let on, but you just think back for weeks and see how hard he’s worked. Why, Catty, you wouldn’t think your father was the same man! He’s got a head, too.” “Dad always had a head when he wasn’t too shiftless to use it,” says Catty. “I’d tell you something else, too, but I sha’n’t,” says Jack. “I’ll let him show you himself. But what about this churn? Going into the butter business?” “Jack,” says Catty, “I hain’t got no business in the world but gettin’ Dad and me respectable. After we git _that_ then I’m really a-goin’ to git to hustlin’ in a business way. But so far I hain’t done a thing but work on the respectable end.” “You’ve done a lot, I should say. But that doesn’t explain the churn.” “Wait till Dad comes and we’ll tell you about it,” says Catty, and just then Mr. Atkins came in and he was looking pleased.