"If I was to indorse his note, think you could see your way clear?"
"Certain sure."
"See him ag'in, won't you? Perty soon?"
"Yes."
"What d'you calc'late to tell him?"
"What you said?"
"Didn't say nothin', did I? Jest asked a question. It was you _said_
something Marvin, wa'n't it? Said you'd lend on my indorsement."
"That what you want me to tell him?"
"Didn't say so, did I? Jest asked a question. G'-by, Marvin. Lemme know
what he says."
It was unnecessary for Marvin to report, for early next morning Kent
Pilkinton, owner of a hill farm on the out-skirts of a village--a farm
on which he succeeded in raising the most ample crop of whiskers in
Coldriver, and little else, came diffidently up to Scattergood as he sat
in front of his hardware store.
"Morning Kent," said Scattergood. "Come to look at mowin' machines, I
calc'late."
"Might _look_ at one," said Kent.
"Need one, don't you?"
"Bad."
"Need quite a mess of implements, don't you?"
"Could do with 'em if I had 'em.... 'Tain't what I come fur, though,
Scattergood. Been tryin' to borrow money off of my brother-in-law, but
he don't calclate to lend without I git an indorser, and seems like he
sets store by your name on a note.
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