“And I ain’t givin’ you any guess-so,” shouted Amazeen, nettled by the lawyer’s contemptuous snort. He stood up and cracked his cane on the floor. “I ain’t ghostin’ ’round, ’specially, nor tryin’ to pry into my neighbours’ business, but when I’m knowin’ to a thing that’s poked right under my nose, why, I know it. Wat Mayo has to set up ev’ry ev’nin’, don’t he, to wait for let teams to come in? Well, he wa’n’t out strollin’ in the Cod Lead Nubble pines all spring and summer, he and Rissy, she a-swingin’ her hat by the ribbons, all so fine and gay--and that was nigh ev’ry fair night. He was settin’ in the stable office shinin’ up hames’ brass-work and nickel trimmin’s, wa’n’t he? He ain’t meetin’ her on the South Cove road with a buff-lined Goddard, and wearin’ a white hat with a black band, and takin’ her aboard. No, he ain’t got any such hat, and there’s only one buff-lined Goddard in these parts and----” “You say you’re knowing to all that?” demanded the Squire. His gaze was direct and glowering and his fingers gripped the volume so tightly that they were white and bloodless. “Not only I’m knowin’ to it, but so’s the South Cove seiners that have their dry racks out that way.” Amazeen was defiant. The lawyer glared at him so threateningly that he became thoroughly indignant. “And if you want the straight facts,” he barked, “and have got to have names right out in meetin’ to prove it ain’t just gossip, then it’s King Bradish who is sparkin’ round the lady mother’s lovely daughter that you’ve plastered off onto a poor boy that’s broke his people’s hearts by gettin’ married to her. I’ve been wond’rin’ how the high-toned Sylveny Willard would like to find that out.” Squire Phin laid the book on the table and put his hands behind him to hide their trembling. “You listen a moment, Amazeen,” he said, spitting the words at the old man; “there are limits to what a person can tell and tattle in a community, when that telling and tattling implicates others’ good names. You know me and you know how much you can depend on what I tell you. If I hear another word on this matter as having been passed around the village by you or Buck, here, I’ll give my services to King Bradish, sue you for slander, attach every dollar’s worth you own, and, by the gods, I’ll win my case. Now if you want your tongue to empty your pocket, go ahead and talk.” The old men stared at him a while and then, mumbling angrily, but plainly intimidated, went clumping down the stairs. The Squire stood in the middle of the office, his hands spatting each other behind him. At last the consciousness that some one was bawling his name outside broke upon his profound meditation. “Squire Phin! Squire! Won’t you see here a second?” shouted Amazeen.