His visitor closed the door. Jed still sat there gazing at vacancy and droning, dolefully.

CHAPTER XI

For nearly an hour he sat there, scarcely changing his position, and only varying his musical program by whistling hymns instead of singing them. Once, hearing a step in the yard, he looked through the window and saw Gabriel Bea.r.s.e walking toward the gate from the direction of the shop door instead of in the opposite direction.

Evidently he had at first intended to call and then had changed his mind. Mr. Winslow was duly grateful to whoever or whatever had inspired the change. He had no desire to receive a visit from "Gab" Bea.r.s.e, at this time least of all.

Later on he heard another step, and, again glancing through the window, saw Seth Wingate, the vegetable and fruit peddler, walking from the door to the gate, just as Mr. Bea.r.s.e had done. Apparently Seth had changed his mind also. Jed thought this rather odd, but again he was grateful. He was thinking hard and was quite willing not to be disturbed.

But the disturbing came ten minutes after Mr. Wingate's departure and came in the nature of a very distinct disturbance. There was a series of thunderous knocks on the front door, that door was thrown violently open, and, before the startled maker of mills could do much more than rise to his feet, the door to the workroom was pulled open also. Captain Hunniwell's bulk filled the opening.

Captain Sam was red-faced and seemed excited.

"Well, by the gracious king," he roared, "you're here, anyhow!

What else is the matter with you?"

Jed, who, after recognizing his visitor, had seated himself once more, looked up and nodded.

"h.e.l.lo, Sam," he observed. "Say, I was just thinkin' about you.

That's kind of funny, ain't it?"

"Funny! Just thinkin' about me! Well, I've been thinkin' about you, I tell you that: Have you been in this shop all the forenoon?"

"Eh? . . . Why, yes. . . . Sartin. . . . I've been right here."

"You HAVE? Gracious king! Then why in the Old Harry have you got that sign nailed on your front door out here tellin' all hands you're out for the day and for 'em to ask for you up at Abijah Thompson's?"

Jed looked much surprised. His hand moved slowly across his chin.

"Sho!" he drawled. "Sho! Has that sign been hangin' there all this forenoon?"

"Don't ask me. I guess it has from what I've heard. Anyhow it's there now. And WHAT'S it there for? That's what I want to know."

Jed's face was very solemn, but there was a faint twinkle in his eye. "That explains about Seth Wingate," he mused. "Yes, and Gab Bea.r.s.e too. . . . Hum. . . . The Lord was better to me than I deserved. They say He takes care of children and drunken men and-- er--the critters that most folks think belong to my lodge. . . .

Hum. . . . To think I forgot to take that sign down! Sho!"

"Forgot to take it down! What in everlastin' blazes did you ever put it up for?"

Jed explained why the placard had been prepared and affixed to the door. "I only meant it for yesterday, though," he added. "I'd intended takin' it down this mornin'."

Captain Sam put back his head and laughed until the shop echoed.

"Ho, ho, ho!" he roared. "And you mean to tell me that you put it up there because you was goin' cruisin' to the aviation camp and you didn't want callers disturbin' Mrs. Armstrong?"

His friend nodded. "Um-hm," he admitted. "I sent 'em to 'Bije's because he was as far off as anybody I could think of. Pretty good idea, wasn't it?"

The captain grinned. "Great!" he declared. "Fine! Wonderful!

You wait till 'Bije comes to tell you how fine 'twas. He's in bed, laid up with neuralgia, and Emma J., his wife, says that every hour or less yesterday there was somebody bangin' at their door asking about you. Every time they banged she says that 'Bije, his nerves bein' on edge the way they are, would pretty nigh jump the quilts up to the ceilin' and himself along with 'em. And his remarks got more lit up every jump. About five o'clock when somebody came poundin' he let out a roar you could hear a mile. 'Tell 'em Shavin's Winslow's gone to the devil,' he bellowed, 'and that I say they can go there too.' And then Emma J. opened the door and 'twan't anybody askin' about you at all; 'twas the Baptist minister come callin'. I was drivin' past there just now and Emma J. came out to tell me about it. She wanted to know if you'd gone clear crazy instead of part way. I told her I didn't know, but I'd make it my business to find out. Tut, tut, tut! You are a wonder, Jed."

Jed did not dispute the truth of this statement. He looked troubled, however. "Sho!" he said; "I'm sorry if I plagued 'Bijah that way. If I'd known he was sick I wouldn't have done it. I never once thought so many folks as one every hour would want to see me this time of year. Dear me! I'm sorry about 'Bije. Maybe I'd better go down and kind of explain it to him."

Captain Sam chuckled. "I wouldn't," he said. "If I was you I'd explain over the long distance telephone. But, anyhow, I wouldn't worry much. I cal'late Emma J. exaggerated affairs some.

Probably, if the truth was known, you'd find not more than four folks came there lookin' for you yesterday. Don't worry, Jed."

Jed did not answer. The word "worry" had reminded him of his other visitor that morning. He looked so serious that his friend repeated his adjuration.

"Don't worry, I tell you," he said, again. "'Tisn't worth it."

"All right, I won't. . . . I won't. . . . Sam, I was thinkin'

about you afore you came in. You remember I told you that?"

"I remember. What have you got on your mind? Any more money kickin' around this glory-hole that you want me to put to your account?"

"Eh? . . . Oh, yes, I believe there is some somewheres. Seems to me I put about a hundred and ten dollars, checks and bills and such, away day before yesterday for you to take when you came.

Maybe I'll remember where I put it before you go. But 'twan't about that I was thinkin'. Sam, how is Barzilla Small's boy, Lute, gettin' along in Gus Howes' job at the bank?"

Captain Sam snorted disgust.

"Gettin' along!" he repeated. "He's gettin' along the way a squid swims, and that's backwards. And, if you asked me, I'd say the longer he stayed the further back he'd get."

"Sho! then he did turn out to be a leak instead of an able seaman, eh?"

"A leak! Gracious king! He's like a torpedo blow-up under the engine-room. The bank'll sink if he stays aboard another month, I do believe. And yet," he added, with a shake of the head, "I don't see but he'll have to stay; there ain't another available candidate for the job in sight. I 'phoned up to Boston and some of our friends are lookin' around up there, but so far they haven't had any success. This war is makin' young men scarce, that is young men that are good for much. Pretty soon it'll get so that a healthy young feller who ain't in uniform will feel about as much out of place as a hog in a synagogue. Yes, sir! Ho, ho!"

He laughed in huge enjoyment of his own joke. Jed stared dreamily at the adjusting screw on the handsaw. His hands clasped his knee, his foot was lifted from the floor and began to swing back and forth.

"Well," queried his friend, "what have you got on your mind? Out with it."

"Eh? . . . On my mind?"

"Yes. When I see you begin to shut yourself together in the middle like a jackknife and start swinging that number eleven of yours I know you're thinkin' hard about somethin' or other. What is it this time?"

"Um . . . well . . . er . . . Sam, if you saw a chance to get a real smart young feller in Lute's place in the bank you'd take him, wouldn't you?"

"Would I? Would a cat eat lobster? Only show him to me, that's all!"

"Um-hm. . . . Now of course you know I wouldn't do anything to hurt Lute. Not for the world I wouldn't. It's only if you ARE goin' to let him go--"

"IF I am. Either he'll have to let go or the bank will, one or t'other. United we sink, divided one of us may float, that's the way I look at it. Lute'll stay till we can locate somebody else to take his job, and no longer."

"Ya-as. . . . Um-hm. . . . Well, I tell you, Sam: Don't you get anybody else till you and I have another talk. It may be possible that I could find you just the sort of young man you're lookin'

for."

"Eh? YOU can find me one? YOU can? What are you givin' me, Jed?

Who is the young man; you?"

Jed gravely shook his head. "No-o," he drawled. "I hate to disappoint you, Sam, but it ain't me. It's another--er--smart, lively young feller. He ain't quite so old as I am; there's a little matter of twenty odd years between us, I believe, but otherwise than that he's all right. And he knows the bankin'

trade, so I'm told."