"There's the cap'tal," he said.

CHAPTER XXI.

John walked to the front door with Mrs. Cullom, but she declined with
such evident sincerity his offer to carry her bundle to the house that
he let her out of the office and returned to the back room. David was
sitting before the fire, leaning back in his chair with his hands thrust
deep in his trousers pockets. He looked up as John entered and said,
"Draw up a chair."

John brought a chair and stood by the side of it while he said, "I want
to thank you for the Christmas remembrance, which pleased and touched me
very deeply; and," he added diffidently, "I want to say how mortified I
am--in fact, I want to apologize for--"

"Regrettin'?" interrupted David with a motion of his hand toward the
chair and a smile of great amusement. "Sho, sho! Se' down, se' down.
I'm glad you found somethin' in your stockin' if it pleased ye, an' as
fur's that regret o' your'n was concerned--wa'al--wa'al, I liked ye all
the better for't, I did fer a fact. He, he, he! Appearances was ruther
agin me, wasn't they, the way I told it."

"Nevertheless," said John, seating himself, "I ought not to have--that
is to say, I ought to have known--"

"How could ye," David broke in, "When I as good as told ye I was
cal'latin' to rob the old lady? He, he, he, he! Scat my ----! Your face
was a picture when I told ye to write that note, though I reckon you
didn't know I noticed it."

John laughed and said, "You have been very generous all through, Mr.
Harum."

"Nothin' to brag on," he replied, "nothin' to brag on. Fur 's Mis'
Cullom's matter was concerned, 't was as I said, jest payin' off an old
score; an' as fur 's your stockin', it's really putty much the same.
I'll allow you've earned it, if it'll set any easier on your stomach."

"I can't say that I have been overworked," said John with a slight
laugh.

"Mebbe not," rejoined David, "but you hain't ben overpaid neither, an' I
want ye to be satisfied. Fact is," he continued, "my gettin' you up here
was putty consid'able of an experiment, but I ben watchin' ye putty
close, an' I'm more'n satisfied. Mebbe Timson c'd beat ye at figurin'
an' countin' money when you fust come, an' knowed more about the
pertic'ler points of the office, but outside of that he was the biggist
dumb-head I ever see, an' you know how he left things. He hadn't no
tack, fer one thing. Outside of summin' up figures an' countin' money he
had a faculty fer gettin' thing