in' kind of disdainful
at Nate. Somehow he had the notion that she didn't take to him fust
rate.

"'Hey?' sings out Nate. 'Tolliver? Why, that's Augustus! AUGUSTUS! well,
I'll be switched!'

"Augustus Tolliver was Nate's nephew from up Boston way. Him and Nate
was livin' together at that time. Huldy Ann, Mrs. Scudder, was out West,
in Omaha, takin' care of a cousin of hers who was a chronic invalid and,
what's more to the purpose, owned a lot of stock in copper mines.

"Augustus was a freckle-faced, spindle-shanked little critter, with
spectacles and a soft, polite way of speakin' that made you want to
build a fire under him to see if he could swear like a Christian. He
had a big head with consider'ble hair on the top of it and nothin'
underneath but what he called 'science' and 'sociology.' His science
wa'n't nothin' but tommy-rot to Nate, and the 'sociology' was some kind
of drivel about everybody bein' equal to everybody else, or better.
'Seemed to think 'twas wrong to get a good price for a thing when you
found a feller soft enough to pay it. Did you ever hear the beat of that
in your life?' says Nate.

"However, Augustus had soaked so much science and sociology into that
weak noddle of his that they kind of made him drunk, as you might say,
and the doctor had sent him down to board with the Scudders and sleep it
off. 'Nervous prostration' was the way he had his symptoms labeled, and
the nerve part was all right, for if a hen flew at him he'd holler and
run. Scart! you never see such a scart cat in your born days. Scart of a
boat, scart of being seasick, scart of a gun, scart of everything! Most
special he was scart of Uncle Nate. The said uncle kept him that way
so's he wouldn't dast to kick at the grub him and Huldy Ann give him, I
guess.

"'Augustus Tolliver,' says old Dixland, noddin'. 'Yes, that is the name.
Has he had a sound scientific trainin'?'

"'Scientific trainin'!' says Nate. 'Scientific trainin'? Why, you bet
he's had it! That's the only kind of trainin' he HAS had. He'll be just
the feller for you, Mr. Dixland.'

"So that was settled, all but notifyin' Augustus. But Scudder sighted
another speculation in the offin', and hove alongside of it.

"'Mr. Harmon, when he was here,' says he, 'he mentioned you needin'
a nice, dependable man to live on the island and be sort of general
roustabout. My wife bein' away just now, and all, it struck me that I
might as well be that man. Maybe my terms'll se