Thirty-eight dollars, was it?
Now you gimme a receipt.... Locker!..."
Scattergood waddled into the store, wrote a receipt, and put the money
in the safe. When Sam had recrossed the road again he turned to Johnnie
Bones. "Sellin' hard-ware's easy if you put your mind to it, Johnnie.
Trouble with you is you don't take no int'rest in it.... Next time
you'll know better. Train's goin' in fifteen minutes. Better hustle."
Next noon Scattergood was in his usual place on the piazza of his store
when the train came in. Presently Mr. Castle, president of the G. & B.,
came into view, and Scattergood closed his eyes as if enjoying a midday
snooze. Mr. Castle approached, stopped, regarded Scattergood with a
pucker of his thin lips, and said to himself that the man must be an
accident. It was one of Scattergood's most valuable qualities that his
appearance and manner gave that opinion to people, even when they had
suffered discomfiture at his hands. Mr. Castle coughed, and Scattergood
opened his eyes sleepily and peered over the rolls of fat that were his
cheeks.
"Howdy?" said Scattergood, not moving.
"Good day, Mr. Baines. You got my message?"
"Seein' as you got my reply to it, I must have," said Scattergood.
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