talk trade to him. But Watts was obdurate, and the man
soon left the shop, eying Barclay closely. He stood in the door and
said, as he went out of the store, "Well, you do look some like his
pictures, Mister."

There was a silence when the stranger went, and Barclay, whose face
had grown red, cried, "Damn 'em--damn 'em all--kick a man when he is
down!"

Again the bell tinkled, and McHurdie went into the shop. Evidently a
customer was looking at a horse collar, for through the glass door
they could see Watts' hook go up to the ceiling and bring one down.

"John," said the colonel, when Barclay had spoken, "John, don't mind
it. Look at me, John--look at me! They had to put me in jail, you
know; but every one seems to have forgotten it but me--and I am a dog
that I don't."

John Barclay looked at the old, broken man, discarded from the
playing-cards of life, with the hurt, surprised look always in his
eyes, and it was with an effort that the suave Mr. Barclay kept the
choke in his throat out of his voice as he replied:--

"Yes, Colonel, yes, I know I have no right to kick against the
pricks."

Watts was saying: "Yes, he's in there now--with the boys; you better
go in and cheer him up."

And then at the upper right-hand entrance entered Gabriel Carnine,
president of the State Bank, unctuous as a bishop. He ignored the
others, and walking to Barclay, put out his hand. "Well, well, John,
glad to see you; just came up from the mill--I was looking for you.
Couldn't find Neal, either. Where is he?"

The general answered curtly, "Neal is in Chicago, working on the
_Record-Herald_."

"Oh," returned Carnine, and did not pursue the subject further. "Well,
gentlemen," he said, "fine winter weather we're having."

"Is that so?" chipped in Dolan. "Mr. Barclay was finding it a little
mite warm."

Carnine ignored Dolan, and Barclay grinned. "Well, John," Carnine
hesitated, "I was just down to see you--on a little matter of
business."

"Delighted, sir, delighted," exclaimed Dolan, as he rose to go; "we
were going, anyway--weren't we, General?" The veterans rose, and
Colonel Culpepper said as he went, "I told Molly to call for me here
about noon with the buggy--if she comes, tell her to wait."

All of life may not be put on the stage, and this scene has to be cut;
for it was at the end of half an hour's aimless, footless, foolish
talk that Gabriel Carnine came to the business in hand. Round and
round the bush he beat th