“D’you know what Catty said to me this morning?” Jack asked me, and he was grinning again like he was tickled to death. “No,” says I. “He asked if I’d ever taken lessons in manners.” “Huh!” says I. “He said I acted like I had manners, and he wanted to know where I got ’em. I told him I guess they grew on me like my nose, and he wanted to know if I wouldn’t sort of take charge of his father and him in the manners line. I’m going to live with them, of course. He says he’s gone as far as he’s able teaching his father table manners, and he wants I should go on from where he left off—teaching both of them.” “Better do it,” says I, “if Catty wants you to.” “Guess I will,” says Jack. “Get that house contract?” says I. “Landed it this morning. Our price was fifty-four hundred dollars.” “Much profit into it?” “We ought to make six or seven hundred.” “Bully!” says I. “And Catty done it, didn’t he? He was the one that thought it up.” “Catty’s the best man of the three of us,” says Jack. Just then Mr. Arthur Peabody Kinderhook drove past in a buggy, all dressed up like he was going to a party. He always looked like he was going to a party, that man did. And he didn’t do any work that I could notice. Just lived in the hotel and drove around and made believe he was looking at the town. It kind of leaked out that he was planning on building a big factory and was choosing the best place to put it. He didn’t say much. Nobody knew what he was going to manufacture, and when they asked him he edged away kind of skittish. It got folks all het up over it. Our town was growing as curious as if he was a circus they couldn’t get into and there was a lot of death-defying trapeze performers doing tricks inside all the time. “Arthur Peabody Kinderhook,” says I, and I told Jack all about him. We walked back to the store. Catty was reading a letter, and when we came in he looked up with a kind of scowl. “Letter from the lumber company. They won’t trust us. Say they’ll ship that lumber for Witherspoon’s house, C. O. D., whatever that means.” “It means we’ll have to pay for it before we can get it,” said Jack. “But we’ve got to use it before we can get the money to pay for it,” says Catty. We was all pretty gloomy. It looked right there as if the partnership of Atkins & Phillips was busted, and I guess Phillips thought so for sure. But Catty turned to his Dad. “Hain’t the banks run so’s they kin lend money to folks?” he says. “Not that I know about personal,” says Mr. Atkins. “None of ’em ever offered to lend to me.” “This here is an honest business,” says Catty, “and we kin pay for that lumber as soon as we git it built into the house. Seems like we deserve to have folks trust us on a deal like this. Maybe it’s because the lumber company don’t know about it. Captain Winton, at the bank, will know all about it. I’m going to see him.” “No use,” says Jack. “All right. I’m goin’ just the same. Come on, Wee-wee.”