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I saw you kick the goal that beat Haleton. Your reputation is worldwide. "Willie Fred Bearse, that is shook his head, sad and regretful. "'Thank you, Mr. Sterzer, says he, in his gentle tenor. 'I have no desire to be famous in athletics. My aspirations now are entirely literary. "Well, he's got his literary job at last, bein' engaged as sportin' editor on one of Gabe's papers.
"I don't know's there's anything there, Sam," he answered, "but but I shouldn't be much surprised if that telegram was from Leander." "Leander? Leander Babbitt? What . . . Eh? What in thunder do YOU want?" The last question was directed toward the window on the street side of the shop. Mr. Gabriel Bearse was standing on the outside of that window, energetically thumping on the glass.
Once, hearing a step in the yard, he looked through the window and saw Gabriel Bearse walking toward the gate from the direction of the shop door instead of in the opposite direction. Evidently he had at first intended to call and then had changed his mind. Mr. Winslow was duly grateful to whoever or whatever had inspired the change.
The main thing is not to let anybody know anything's missin'. Once let the news get out 'twill grow to a hundred thousand afore night. There'll be a run on us if Gab Bearse or Melissa Busteed get goin' with their throttles open. So don't you whisper a word to anybody, Jed. We'll find it pretty soon." And Jed did not whisper a word.
Jed held up a big hand. "There, there, Gabe," he suggested, mildly. "Let's hear about Sam and Phin Babbitt. What was Phineas goin' on about when you was in his store?" Mr. Bearse forgot personal grievance in his eagerness to tell the story. "Why," he began, "you see, 'twas like this: 'Twas all on account of Leander. Leander's been drafted. You know that, of course?" Jed nodded.
If you see one of those things the soldiers put on in the trenches I'd wish you'd buy it for me. You know what I mean a gas mask." "A gas mask! Gracious king! What on earth?" Jed sighed. "'Twould be consider'ble protection when Gabe Bearse dropped in and started talkin'," he drawled, solemnly.
House and shop and both yards were neat and clean as a New England kitchen. Gabriel Bearse, after a moment's reflection, opened the gate in the picket fence and walked along the clamshell walk to the shop door. Opening the door, he entered, a bell attached to the top of the door jingling as he did so. The room which Mr.
He swept into the room like a northwest breeze, and two bundles of wooden strips, cut to the size of mill arms, clattered to the floor as he did so. "Hello, Jed!" he hailed, in a voice which measured up to the rest of him. Then, noticing Mr. Bearse for the first time, he added: "Hello, Gabe, what are you doin' here?" Gabriel hastened to explain.
Jed knew that Phineas Babbitt had been on a trip to Boston and, therefore, had not heard of the captain's appointment. Now, according to Gabriel Bearse, he had returned and had heard of it, and according to Bearse's excited statement he had "gone on" about it. "Leander's been drafted," repeated Gabe. "And that was bad enough for Phineas, he bein' down on the war, anyhow.
Sometimes he found Jed alone, more often Barbara was there also, and, semi- occasionally, Ruth. The major and Charles Phillips met and appeared to like each other. Charles was still on the rising tide of local popularity. Even Gabe Bearse had a good word to say for him among the many which he said concerning him.
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