"Your town," said he, "is growin'. Its population jest increased by me." "Sizable growth," said Old Man Penny, dryly, letting his eye rove over Scattergood's bulk. "My line," said Scattergood, "is anythin' needful. Outside of a railroad, what you figger you need most?" Nobody answered. "Is it a grocery store?" asked Scattergood. Locker stiffened in his chair. "Me and Sam Kittleman calc'lates to sell all the groceries this town needs," he said. "How about dry goods?" said Scattergood. Old Man Penny and Wade Lumley stirred to life at this. "Lumley and me takes care of the dry goods," said the old man. "Uh-huh! How about a clothin' store?" "We got all the clothin' stores there's room for," said Lafe Atwell. "I run it." "Kind of got the business of this town sewed up, hain't you?" Scattergood asked, admiringly. "Wouldn't look with favor on any more stores?" "We calculate to keep what business we got," said Old Man Penny. "A outsider would have a hard time makin' a go of it here." "Quite likely," said Scattergood. "Still, you never can tell. Let some feller come in here with a gen'ral store, sellin' for cash--and cuttin' prices, eh? How would an outsider git along if he done that? Up-to-date store. Fresh goods. Low prices. Eh? Calc'late some of you fellers would have to discharge a clerk." "You hain't got money enough to start a store," Old Man Penny squawked. "Why, you hain't even got a satchel! You come walkin' in like a tramp." "There's tramps--and tramps," said Scattergood, placidly. He reached far down into a trousers pocket and tugged to the light of day a roll that his fingers could not encircle. He looked at it fondly, tossed it up in the air a couple of times and caught it, and then held it between thumb and forefinger until the eyes of his audience had assured themselves that the outside bill was yellow and its denomination twenty dollars.... The audience gulped. "Meals to the tavern perty good?" Coldriver's new citizen asked. "Say," demanded Locker, "be you really thinkin' about startin' a cash store here?" "Neighbor," said Scattergood, "never give up valuable information without gittin' somethin' for it. How much money would a complete and careful account of my intentions be worth to you?" Locker snorted. "Bet that wad of bills is a dummy with a counterfeit twenty outside of it," he said. Scattergood smiled tantalizingly. Locker had not, fortunately for Scattergood, the least idea how close to the truth he had been. On one point only had he been mistaken. The twenty outside was _not_ counterfeit. However, except for three fives, four twos, and ninety cents in silver, it represented Scattergood's total cash capital. "I'm goin'," said Scattergood, "to order me _two_ suppers. Two! From bean soup to apple pie. It's my birthday. Twenty-six to-day, and I always eat two suppers on my birthdays.... Glad you leadin' citizens see fit to give me such a hearty welcome to your town. Right kind and generous of you."