Part 20 (1/2)
”You are born to be a great man,” said Mitch.e.l.l. ”The cards are shuffled and cut that way and you can't help it. What are you goin' to do now?”
”I'm going to sleep for a few hours and then get to work.”
”When are you goin' to take another lesson?”
”Day after to-morrow.”
”Ain't that feller a bird?”
”He understands his business.”
”About when do you think you can tackle your job again?”
”Not till I have learned how. I'm going to get some gloves and have you box with me between times.”
He went into the house and lay down, and when Mitch.e.l.l came in he was asleep with his head on his fist.
CHAPTER XIV.
PEEPED IN AT HIM.
Blakemore came out on Sunday morning, snapping his watch and complaining against the pall-bearing march of time. He was full of business. His pockets were stuffed with papers. He made figures on the backs of envelopes as he sat at the table. He asked after Milford. His wife said that the place had somehow lost its charm for Mr. Milford. Mrs. Goodwin and Miss Strand had seen him in the road. Mrs. Stuvic, standing near, pressed her lips close together. She shook her head. She did not understand him, she declared. Lately he had been seen in Antioch. She did not know what business could have taken him there.
”You may not be supposed to know,” said George, making his figures.
”Now you keep still,” she replied. ”I am supposed to know more than you think for. I wasn't born yesterday, and I'm goin' to live longer than any of you, I tell you that.”
”It's very natural for us to expect every one else to die,” said George.
”It's a pretty hard matter to picture one's self as dead. But the old fellow is coming along yonder whetting his scythe as he comes.”
”George,” said his wife, ”don't talk to her that way.”
”Oh, let him talk,” the old woman spoke up. ”I don't care what he says.
Goes in at one ear and comes out at the other, with me. I'll live to see him cold, I'll tell you that.”
”Oh, please don't talk that way, Mrs. Stuvic; you give me the shudders.
By the way, Mr. Dorsey has gone back to town, hasn't he?”
”Yes,” Mrs. Stuvic answered. ”And he owes me, too.”
”That's what you say about everybody,” George declared. ”You'll be saying it about me, next.”
”Well, you did owe me till to-day; and see that you don't do it again.
But that feller Dorsey'll pay. He'll be back again in about two weeks.
He says I've got the finest place in the county.”
”The 'peach,'” George whispered, as Mrs. Goodwin and Gunhild came into the dining-room. His wife pulled at him. The boy wanted to know what he had said. For a wonder he had not heard. His mind was among the green apples in the orchard. George bowed to the ladies and began to tell them about the great improvement in business. The banks had plenty of money to lend. Real estate, the true pulse of the times, had begun to throb with a new life. Mrs. Goodwin did not think that there had been any improvement. The Doctor had written that money was scarce. Every one complained of slow collections. George asked the Norwegian if there were any sale for pictures.