First, he owned a prosperous hardware store. This was his business. It
netted him a couple of thousand dollars a year. The valley was his
avocation. It had netted him well over a hundred thousand dollars, most
of which was growing on the mountain sides in straight, clear spruce, in
birch, beech, and maple. It had netted him certain strategic holdings of
land along Coldriver itself, sites for future dams, for mills yet to be
built--for railroad yards, depots, and terminals. Quietly, almost
stealthily, he had gotten a hold on the valley. Now he was ready to grip
it with both hands and to make it his own.... That is why he journeyed
to the city.
He put his canvas telescope between his feet so that he could feel it.
It was as well, he determined, to practice caution where none was
needed, so he would be letter perfect in the art when he reached the
dangers of the city. Between Scattergood's shoes and the feet they
inclosed, were sox. Before his union with Mandy he had been a stranger
to such effeteness. Even now he was prone to discard them as soon as he
was out of range of her vision. To-day he had not escaped, for, warm as
the day was, heavy white woolen sox folded and festooned themselves
modishly over the tops of his shoes.
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