deep sea, so promptly, so
masterfully married Col. Gideon Ward's sister--after the irascible
Colonel had driven every other suitor away from that patient
lady--and then gave the Colonel his "everlasting comeuppance," and
settled down in Smyrna as boss of the Ward household, that event
nearly wore Gossip's tongue into ribbons.

"I see'd it from a distance--the part that happened in front of the
toll-house," said Old Man Jordan. "Now, all of ye know that Kun'l
Gid most gin'ly cal'lates to eat up folks that says 'Boo' to him,
and pick his teeth with slivers of their bones. But talk about your
r'yal Peeruvian ragin' lions--of wherever they come from--why, that
Cap'n Sproul could back a 'Rabian caterwouser right off'm
Caterwouser Township! I couldn't hear what was said, but I see Kun'l
Gid, hoss-gad and all, backed right up into his own wagon; and Cap'n
Sproul got in, and took the reins away from him as if he'd been a
pindlin' ten-year-old, and drove off toward the Ward home place. And
that Cap'n don't seem savage, nuther."

"Wal, near's I can find out," said Odbar Broadway from behind his
counter, where he was counting eggs out of Old Man Jordan's bucket,
"the Cap'n had a club in one hand and power of attorney from Kun'l
Gid's sister in the other--and a threat to divide the Ward estate.
The way Gid's bus'ness is tied up jest at present would put a knot
into the tail of 'most any kind of a temper."

"I'm told the Cap'n is makin' her a turrible nice husband," observed
one of the store loungers.

Broadway folded his specs into their case and came from behind the
counter.

"Bein' a bus'ness man myself," he said, "I come pretty nigh knowin'
what I'm talkin' about. Kun'l Gid Ward can never flout and jeer that
the man that has married his sister was nothin' but a prop'ty-hunter.
I'm knowin' to it that Cap'n Sproul has got thutty thousand in vessel
prop'ty of his own, 'sides what his own uncle Jerry here left to him.
Gid Ward has trompled round this town for twenty-five years, and
bossed and browbeat and cussed, and got the best end of every trade.
If there's some one come along that can put the wickin' to him in
good shape, I swow if this town don't owe him a vote of thanks."

"There's a movement on already to ask Cap'n Sproul to take the office
of first s'lec'man at the March meetin'," said one of the loafers.

"I sha'n't begretch him one mite of his popularity," vowed the
storekeeper. "Any man that can put Kun'l Gid Wa