... Besides, I'm here to take care of him ...or are you a
quitter?"
"Twenty thousand dollars," Mr. Peaney said to himself. "Then I'll show
you how good my nerve is. Bring on your fat man...."
Scattergood was up at his accustomed early hour, and before breakfast
had examined Mr. Peaney's premises from front and rear. The bucket shop
was in a small wooden building. The ground floor consisted of a large
office where was visible the big blackboard upon which stock quotations
were posted, and of a back room whose interior was invisible from the
street. A corner of the main office had been partitioned off as a
private retreat for Mr. Peaney. What was upstairs Scattergood could not
tell with accuracy, but he judged it to be a single room or perhaps two
small rooms.... It was here, he felt certain, Ovid was secreting
himself, and, with a certain grimness, he hoped the young man was not
happy in his surroundings.
"I calc'late," he said to himself, "that Ovid, bein' shet up with his
own figgerin's and imaginin's, hain't in no jubilant frame of mind....
Meanest punishment you kin give a feller is to lock him in for a spell
with himself, callin' himself names.
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