to see the view if I fall out of every tree I climb," Sarah
said, hotly.

"Don't object if I find you a boardin' house?"

"I'm going to board with Grandma Penny that was--Mrs. Spackles."

Scattergood nodded. "G'-by, Sairy.... G'-by, Nahum." He watched father
and daughter leave the store with a twinkle in his eyes, not a twinkle
of humor, but the twinkle that always came when his interest in life,
always keen, was aroused to a point where it tingled. "Calc'late to be
kep' busy--more 'n ordinary busy," he offered as an opinion to be
digested by the Round Oak stove. Presently he added: "She's perty ...
and bein' perty is kind of a remarkable thing ... bein' perty and
young.... Don't seem like God ought to hold folks accountable fer bein'
young, nor yet fer bein' good to look at ... but they's times when it
seems like He does...." On his way back to the store after dinner,
Scattergood stopped at the bank corner, hesitated a moment, and then
mounted the stairs to the offices above. A door bearing the legend,
"Robert Allen, Attorney at Law," admitted him to a large, bare office,
such as one finds in such towns as Coldriver.

"Howdy, Bob?" said Scattergood.

"Good day, Mr. Baines," said the young man behind the desk, who had
suddenly pretended to be very much occupied with important matters as
his door opened.

"Um!... Busy time, eh? Better come back later."

"No. No, indeed. Take this chair right here, Mr. Baines. What can I do
for you?"

"Depends. Uh-huh! Depends.... Calc'late to make a perty good livin',
Bob?"

"No complaints."

"Studied it yourself, didn't you--out of books? No college?"

"Yes."

"Hard work, wasn't it? Mighty hard work?"

"It might have been easier," said Bob, wondering what Scattergood was
getting at.

"Like to be prosecutin' attorney for this county, Bob?"

Prosecuting attorney! With a salary of twenty-five hundred dollars a
year--and the prestige! Bob strove valiantly to maintain a look of
dignified interest, but with ill success.

"I--I might consider it. Yes, I would consider it."

"Um!... Figgered you would," said Scattergood, dryly. "Hain't got no
help in the office," he observed. "Need some, don't you? Somebody to
write letters and sort of look after things, eh?"

"Why--er--I've never thought about it."

"If you was to think about it, you'd calc'late on payin' about six
dollars a week, wouldn't you?" Bob swallowed hard. Six dollars a week
was a great deal of money to this