ood, waggling his head.
"Counted it myself. Did look for a minute like they was three thousand
short, but I kind of put that amount in, and then counted ag'in, and,
sure enough, it was all there...."

Ovid stared, took a step forward. "You mean.... What do you mean, Mr.
Baines?"

"I'm goin' to step outside of what used to be the door," said
Scattergood, "and let Pansy do the explainin'.... What I do after that
depends a heap on ... Pansy...."

Scattergood went outside and waited, his eyes on the stairs, but nobody
offered to ascend. He could hear the conversation within, but it was
only toward the end that it interested him.

"Ovid," said Pansy, "you've been hanging around my counter a good
deal--and asking me to dinners, and to go driving on Sunday. What for?"

"Because--because I liked you awful well, Pansy, but now--now that I've
done this--"

"If you hadn't done this? If you had made money instead of losing it?"

"I--oh, what's the use of talking about it? I wanted you should marry
me, Pansy."

"But you don't want me any more?"

"Nobody'd marry me--knowing what you know."

"Ovid," said Pansy, sharply, "there's nothing wrong with you except
that--you haven't enough brains all by yourself. You need to be looked
after ...and I'm going to do it."

"Looked after?"

"Ovid Nixon, do you like me well enough to marry me?"

"I--"

"Do you? Yes or no ... quick!"

"Yes."

"Then ask me," said Pansy.

Presently the three emerged into the street from the deserted offices of
Mr. Peaney. Scattergood Baines held in his hands two thousand dollars in
bills, representing net profit on the transaction. He regarded the money
with a frown.

"Somethings got to be done to you to make you fit to tetch," he said to
it.

Out of an adjoining store came a young woman in a queer bonnet, with a
tambourine in her hand. "Huh!" said Scattergood, and stopped her.
"Salvation Army, hain't you?"

"Yes, sir."

"Hold it out," he said, motioning to the tambourine.

She obeyed, and he dropped into it the package of bills, and, looking
into her startled, almost frightened eyes, he said: "It come from fools
to sharpers.... I calculate nothin' but a leetle salvation'll kill the
cussedness in it.... Make it do all the salvagin' it kin...."

Whereupon he passed on, leaving a bewildered woman to stare after him.

Next morning, Scattergood, accompanied by Mr. and Mrs. Ovid Nixon,
alighted from the train in Coldriver. Deacon Pettybon