or, after an interval.

"Eh? . . . Oh, yes, yes. So you did, so you did. . . . Hum!"

He rose and, walking to the window, peeped about the edge of the
shade across and down the road in the direction of the telegraph
office.

"Phineas," he drawled, musingly, "and Squealer and Lute Small and
Bluey. Hu-u-m! . . . Yes, yes."

He turned away from the window and began intoning a hymn. Major
Grover seemed to be divided between a desire to laugh and a
tendency toward losing patience.

"Well," he queried, after another interval, "about that crank?
Have you one I might borrow? It may not fit, probably won't, but I
should like to try it."

Jed sighed. "There's a crank here," he drawled, "but it wouldn't
be much use around automobiles, I'm afraid. I'm it."

"What? I don't understand."

"I say I'm it. My pet name around Orham is town crank. That's why
Phineas sent you to my shop. He said you OUGHT to find a crank
here. He was right, I'm 'most generally in."

This statement was made quietly, deliberately and with no trace of
resentment. Having made it, the speaker began picking up the vanes
and sailors he had spilled when he proffered his visitor the chair.
Major Grover colored, and frowned.

"Do you mean to tell me," he demanded, "that that fellow sent me
over here because--because--"

"Because I'm town crank? Ye-es, that's what I mean."

"Indeed! That is his idea of a joke, is it?"

"Seems to be. He's an awful comical critter, Phin Babbitt is--in
his own way."

"Well, it's not my way. He sends me over here to make an ass of
myself and insult you--"

"Now, now, Major, excuse me. Phin didn't have any idea that you'd
insult me. You see," with the fleeting smile, "he wouldn't believe
anybody could do that."

Grover turned sharply to the door. Mr. Winslow spoke his name.

"Er--Major Grover," he said, gently, "I wouldn't."

The major paused. "Wouldn't what?" he demanded.

"Go over there and tell Phin and the rest what you think of 'em.
If 'twould do 'em any good I'd say, 'For mercy sakes, go!' But
'twouldn't; they wouldn't believe it."

Grover's lips tightened.

"Telling it might do ME some good," he observed, significantly.

"Yes, I know. But maybe we might get the same good or more in a
different way. . . . Hum! . . . What--er--brand of automobile is
yours?"

The major told him. Jed nodded.

"Hum . . . yes," he drawled. "I see. . . . I see."

Grover laughed. "I'll be han