on of a very high temper.

"Mebbe," said Ozias Lamb, "somebody killed poor Abel for his
mortgage. I dun'no' of anything else he had." Ozias laughed again.
He was a stout, squat man, leaning forward upon his knees as he sat,
with a complete subsidence of all his muscles, which showed that it
was his accustomed attitude. Just in that way had Ozias Lamb sat and
cobbled shoes on his lapboard for nearly forty years. He was almost
resolved into a statue illustrative of his own toil. He never stood
if he could help it; indeed, his knees felt weak under him if he
tried to do so. He sank into the first seat and settled heavily
forward into his one pose of life.

All the other men looked rather apprehensively at him. His face was
all broadened with sardonic laughter, but his blue eyes were fierce
under his great bushy head of fair hair. "Abel Edwards has been
lugging of that mortgage 'round for the last ten years," said he,
"an' it's been about all he had to lug. It's been the meat in his
stomach an' the hope in his heart. He 'ain't been a-lookin' forward
to eatin', but to payin' up the interest money when it came due; he
'ain't been a-lookin' forward to heaven, but to clearin' off the
mortgage. It's been all he's had; it's bore down on his body and his
soul, an' it's braced him up to keep on workin'. He's been a-livin'
in this Christian town for ten years a-carryin' of this fine mortgage
right out in plain sight, an' I shouldn't be a mite surprised if
somebody see it an' hankered arter it. Folks are so darned anxious in
this 'ere Christian town to get holt of each other's burdens!"

Simon Basset edged his chair away still farther; then he spoke.
"Don't s'pose you expected folks to up an' pay Abel Edwards's
mortgage for him," he said.

"No, I didn't," returned Ozias Lamb, and the sardonic curves around
his mouth deepened.

"An' I don't s'pose you'd expect Doctor Prescott to make him a
present of it," said Jake Noyes, suddenly, from the outskirts of the
group. He had come in for the doctor's mail, and was lounging with
one great red-sealed missive and a religious newspaper in his hand.

"No," said Ozias Lamb, "I shouldn't never expect the doctor to make a
present to anybody but himself or the Lord or the meetin'-house."

A general chuckle ran over the group at that. Doctor Prescott was
regarded in the village as rather parsimonious except in those three
directions.

Jake Noyes colored angrily and stepped forward. "I ain