"Where's Ovid?" he demanded again.
"Ovid ... Ovid who? I don't know any Ovid."
He became suddenly alarmed and blocked the way to the door.
Scattergood's eyes twinkled. "If I was you I wouldn't git in the way to
any extent. Feelin' the way I do I sh'u'dn't be s'prised if I got a
certain amount of satisfaction out of tramplin' over you."
"Hey, you put that money back ..."
"Mine, hain't it? Gained it lawful, didn't I?"
He walked slowly toward the door, and Mr. Peaney, still barring the way,
found himself sitting suddenly in an adjacent corner. Scattergood walked
calmly past and made for the back room.
"Stop him!" shouted Mr. Peaney. "Don't let him go in there."
But Scattergood proceeded methodically, leaving no less than three of
Mr. Peaney's employees in recumbent postures along his line of march....
Pansy followed him closely, pale, but resolute. He ascended the stairs,
and, finding the door at the top fastened from within, he removed it
bodily by the application of a calk-studded boot.... Ovid Nixon was
disclosed cowering against the wall, pale, terrified.
"Howdy, Ovid?" said Scattergood, as if he had met the young man casually
on the street.
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