“No wonder. I'm lookin' at somethin' that gives me a pain. That wizened-up landshark of a Jerry Clifford is in sight, bound to the post-office, I cal'late. Goin' to put a one-cent stamp on a letter and let the feller that gets it pay the other cent, I suppose. He always asks the postmaster to lick the stamp, so's to save the wear and tear on his own tongue. That's a fact. . . . No,” he added, a moment later, “he ain't goin' to the office; he's turnin' down the lane here. . . . Eh! Jumpin' fire of brimstone, I do believe--WHAT in the world?” For Mr. Clifford's step was upon the platform of the store and in another moment the door opened and the tight-fisted one himself appeared. Shadrach said nothing; he could only stare in amazement. It had been more than two years since Jeremiah had crossed that threshold. But he crossed it now. And, after a look about the place, ignoring the Captain completely, he walked over to the desk. He did not look happy. Mary, on the contrary, looked very much pleased. “Good morning, Mr. Clifford,” she said. Jeremiah, who was a little thin man, looked up at her from under his heavy gray eyebrows and above his spectacles. He did not acknowledge the salutation. “Umph!” he grunted savagely. “You think you're smart, don't ye?” Shadrach started forward. “Why, you--” he began. Mary held up her hand. “Don't interfere, Uncle Shad,” she ordered. “This is Mr. Clifford's affair and mine. We understand each other perfectly.” Then, turning to the frowning Jeremiah, she said: “Why, yes, thank you, Mr. Clifford, I do think I am rather clever--just now. Don't you think I am, yourself?” Again the visitor ignored the question. “What did you go and stick an attachment on that land of mine for?” he demanded. “Surely you don't need to ask me that, Mr. Clifford. The amount is one hundred and ten dollars and sixty-three cents. I remember it and I should imagine you must; certainly it has been called to your attention often enough.” “Umph! Well, you can keep your darned old attachment.” “Very well; and you can keep your land--what is left, I mean. I think you will keep it for some time--after I tell Mr. Keith the facts. He will be here this afternoon, you know.” It was evident that Jeremiah was quite aware of the time of Sam Keith's arrival. His teeth--the few remaining--snapped together and, as Captain Shadrach said afterwards, he looked as if undecided whether to bite or put back his head and howl. Apparently he decided that howling was safer. “I was cal'latin' to pay that bill of yours, anyhow,” he said. “Of course, and we were calculating that you would,” said Mary sweetly. “Your calculations and ours are proving true, Mr. Clifford. That's nice, isn't it?” From the direction of the back room, where Simeon was busy with his orders, came the sound of a smothered laugh. Shadrach, upon whom understanding of the situation was just beginning to dawn, slapped his knee. Mr. Clifford looked positively venomous.