“It’s the same thing; you meant it. Go ahead.” The old man’s tone was imperious. Hiram and the rest of the crowd turned to him, inquiry on their faces. The showman leaned forward with especial insistence. “I ain’t no hand to tattle----” “You said that before, consarn ye!” This persistent delay that baffled Uncle Buck’s curiosity made him furious. “No matter what you see or what you didn’t see,” said Hiram. “The idea is, what do you _know?_” There was no resisting the force of circumstances. “Well,” roared Seekins, “I know that King Bradish is keepin’ full of licker in New York and throwin’ money right and left and over his shoulder--or has been so long’s he had it to throw. He’s gone to Tophet, that’s what he’s done, and if what I hear up at the other end is true, he’s got a string hitched to certain parties in this place and he’s goin’ to drag ’em with him. Now that’s all you’re goin’ to git out of me,” he concluded, throwing the rope-end into the wood-box and rising. “I don’t propose to git into no trouble by talkin’ and tellin’. I’ve seen people that done that. If any’s interested, let ’em go to New York and to the right people and they’ll find out for themselves.” He pushed through the little circle and went out of the store. Hiram seized his crackers and cheese and started after him, overtaking the sailor in the middle of the square. One after the other, the old men blunted their noses against the frosty panes of Brickett’s front window, trying to spy and to hear. But only the mumble of voices reached them, Hiram’s tone insistent, Seekins’s deprecatory. But at last Hiram slapped him cordially on the back and the two separated. A sudden cessation in the band music showed that the refreshments had arrived in the hall, and the old men yawned about Brickett’s stove and one by one went home. One or two persons saw Hiram Look drive out of the yard of the old place the next forenoon and take the road toward Square Harbour, his tall hat projecting just above the high back of his sleigh, and fat ear-muffs cosily snuggling his ears. These one or two asked “Figger-Four” Avery about the showman’s departure, when he came to the store during the day, after a “fig” of tobacco. “Here’s what he said to me,” stated Avery: “Says he, ‘I’m goin’ to Europe, I-rope and A-rope after wild animiles, and I’ll be back when I git damation good and ready. If you miss feedin’ Imogene on the dot or let the fire git low in the stove, I’ll warp t’other leg for you.’ There! That’s what he said, and if you can git any more out of it than what I have, you’re welcome to. I guess you’d better give me another fig o’ terbacker, Ase, for I’m goin’ to stay pretty clus to that barn till he gits back.” “I s’pose you know all about el’phunts now, don’t you, Avery?” inquired one of the men who lounged about the stove, toasting their shins.