It is of record that the deacon arrived, like Sheridan at Winchester, in the nick of time; that he rallied his flustered cohorts and led them to triumph--and then regretted the bargain he had made. But it was too late. He could not draw back. Wife and daughter and townsfolk were all against him, and he could not withstand the pressure. And then.... "Parson," said Scattergood, "your pa and the deacon ought to make up." "They'll never do it, Mr. Baines." "Deacon'll have to let your pa come to the weddin'. There'll be makin' up and reconciliations when there's a grandson, but I can't wait. I'm in a all-fired hurry. You go to the deacon and tell him your pa sent him to say that he's ready to bury the hatchet and begs the deacon's pardon for everythin'--everythin'." "But it wouldn't be true." "It's got to be true. Hain't I sayin' it's true? And then you go to your pa and tell him the deacon wants to make up, and begs _his_ pardon out and out. Tell both of 'em to be at my store at three o'clock, but don't tell neither t'other's to be there." At three o'clock Deacon Pettybone and Elder Hooper came face to face in Scattergood's place of business. "Howdy, gents?" said Scattergood. "Lookin' forward to bein' mutual grandads, I calc'late. Must be quite a feelin' to know you're in line to be a grandad." "Huh!" grunted the deacon. "Wumph!" coughed the elder. "To think of you old coots dandlin' a baby on your knees--and buyin' it pep'mint candy and the Lord knows what, and walkin' down the street, each of you holdin' one of its hands and it walkin' betwixt you.... Dummed if I don't congratulate you." The deacon looked at the elder and the elder looked at the deacon. They grinned, frostily at first, then more broadly. "By hek! Eph," said the deacon. "I'll be snummed!" said the elder, and they shook hands there and then. "Step back here a minute. I got a mite of business. You won't want the nuisance of that stage line--with a grandson to fetch up. I'm kinder hankerin' to run the thing--not that it'll be much of an investment." "What you offerin'?" asked the deacon. Scattergood mentioned the sum. "Cash," he concluded. "Calc'late we better sell," said the elder. An hour later, with the papers in his pocket to prove ownership, Scattergood visited the stores of his rivals, Locker, Kettleman, Lumley, and Penny. "Gentlemen," he said, "you been a-tryin' to crowd me out of business. I hain't made a cent of profit f'r two months, and I calc'late on a profit of two hunderd and fifty a month. Jest gimme your check for five hunderd dollars and I'll take your stocks of hardware off'n your hands at, say, fifty cents on the dollar, and we'll call it a day." "Scattergood, we got you where we want you. You can't hold out another sixty days."