Catty started in and told him the whole business about how him and his father came to town, and about Mrs. Gage, and about how he wanted to be respectable, and about what we heard at the church awhile ago, and about Jim Bockers coming to town to be a competitor. “That’s the only store he kin rent,” says Catty, “so he’ll have to rent it. When he comes I want you should rent it to him, but the rent ’ll be twenty dollars a month, leavin’ me a profit of seven-fifty. Make him take a year’s lease. Git the idee?” Mr. Wade looked at Catty. “Napoleon couldn’t ’a’ thought up a better strategy,” says he. “Young feller, you come to the right place. I’ll do what you want, and glad to. There won’t be no charge, neither. And any time I kin do anything to help you, why, you come a-hustlin’ right up here. Never can tell. Some day I might do you some good.” “Much obleeged,” says Catty. “We won’t bother you any more.” “Come in any time. Always welcome,” says Mr. Wade. We went out and down-stairs. Catty was sort of smiling to himself. “There,” says he. “I guess Mr. Bockers ’ll help us some, even if he does hurt us some.” “I never ’u’d ’a’ thought of that scheme in the world,” says I. “’Twasn’t much to think of,” says Catty. And that was just like him. He never was stuck up about the things he did, and it never tickled him to do something especial clever. He was all for business and manners and being respectable. If he could get what he wanted easy, why, he took it easy. If he had to use a lot of brains, why, he just went to work and used them. It didn’t seem to make a mite of difference to him. He was satisfied either way. CHAPTER X On the first of the month Catty and his father moved into the little store; all the profits they made out of the warehouse-painting job went into furniture and stock for the store, and there wasn’t much stock. Mr. Atkins didn’t seem like he was very interested, and sighed a lot and held his head, and Catty had to watch him sharp to keep him from just hiking off into the country and lying down somewheres for a day at a time. But every time Catty saw his father make a move he was right at his heels. “You can be shiftless evenin’s, Dad,” he said, “but daytimes you got to be a business man. It’s jest startin’ in that’s hard. First you know you’ll get int’rested, and then nobody could drive you off.” “Don’t want to git int’rested,” said Mr. Atkins, sorry-like. “What I want is what we always done—jest nothin’ in special.”