“Keeps a-grabbin’ ev’ry which way like a man that hears a moskeeter buzzin’ round him in the night,” giggled Hiram. “I’ve set right in the other room sev’ral times and he didn’t know I was there, and I’ve heard him coax and beg and guess and promise and almost blubber, and me behind the door in t’other room swellin’ up and swellin’ up and then lettin’ it out through my nose easy, and then swellin’ up again. I don’t believe I shall be able to stand very much of that. I’m li’ble to bust some time.” “I should think it would be well wuth list’nin’ to,” agreed Peak. Then he said artlessly: “I like fun myself. Why can’t I go along with you after this? Then there won’t be no such thing as her gettin’ her cobweb around you.” “You talk as though I was runnin’ matinées up-country,” said Hiram, the red on his bristly cheeks. He detected Peak’s selfish apprehension, and the giant’s gaze shifted under his scowl. “I never had any trouble in runnin’ my own bus’ness yet and I don’t expect to have to call in understudies right away.” In considerable dudgeon he marched along to a narrow secretary in the corner and began to mumble figures in an undertone as he went over his accounts. Peak sat gazing into the fire, twirling his huge thumbs thoughtfully. The sound of some one stamping off snow on the porch broke upon the silence of the two. The visitor came in without knocking and, fumbling his way along the dark entry, opened the sitting-room door. It was old Sumner Badger, the wet snow splotching his faded overcoat. “’Pears to be one o’ these ’ere sticky storms,” he observed amiably, pulling a chair up before the stove. “Yes, seems to hang to _you_ like dollar bills do,” retorted Hiram, snapping around from the secretary and squinting over his glasses. Then he went on with his figuring, talking half aloud. Badger surveyed the back of his head for some time and then said: “It’s about that money you want to borrow of me, Capt’in.” Badger always bestowed this title in moments when he wanted to placate. “Then you’ve collected from Willard, have you?” inquired Hiram, gruffly, over his shoulder. “Huh, you’ve been long enough about it. Ever since last fall.” “Well, I’ve seen the Jedge,” faltered Badger; “jest come from his office to here. He says the town can’t raise no money to take up town notes not till town meetin’ in March. He says it will be made all right to me if I’ll wait. Now he give me to understand that I’d git seven per cent, all hunky if I didn’t hurry things and--no, s’r, honest to Lucifer if I said a word about your wantin’ the money,” he expostulated as Hiram swung angrily to face him. “I told you I’d kill you if you did,” roared Hiram. “And I didn’t, Capt’in! No, s’r, when it’s money concerned I can keep my mouth shet. Ain’t I kept it shet all these years about the Jedge havin’ it?” “Let’s see!” remarked Hiram, with a sly look in his eye, as though he wished to test this Palermo voter. “How much money does Palermo owe, anyway?”