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When he got a squint at the old fiddle while Hopewell was down here playing for the dance, he was just crazy to buy it. Any old price, he said! After I got it," proceeded Joe, ruefully, "he tries to tell me it ain't worth even what I paid for it." "Wal 'tain't, is it?" said Walky, bluntly. "If it's worth a hundred it's worth a hundred and fifty," said the barkeeper doggedly.
He gits drunk, beats 'Rill Scattergood, that was, and otherwise behaves himself like a hardened old villain." "Oh, Walky! I would not believe such things about Mr. Drugg not if he told them to me himself!" exclaimed Janice. "An' I reckon nobody would ha' dreamed sech things about him if Marm Scattergood hadn't got home from Skunk's Holler.
Walky getting a hack?" "Be serious," commanded his cousin, who really had gained a great deal of influence over the thoughtless Marty during the time she had lived in Polktown. "Oh, Marty! I've just seen such a dreadful thing!" "Hullo! What's that?" he asked, eyeing her curiously and ceasing his laughter. He knew now that she was in earnest. "That horrid old Jim Narnay you know him?"
"But fair exchange, Mister. You might tell me who I have the honor of speaking to and, especially, you might introduce me to the lady?" "Oh! Eh?" and Walky looked at the blushing Janice, questioningly. The girl smiled, however, and the driver cleared his throat and gravely made the introduction. "And I'm Walky Dexter," he concluded.
"I shall hold you to that, Walky," said Janice, quickly, interfering before there should be any further sharp discussion. "And," muttered Nelson, "she's as good as got you, Walky she has that!" At the moment the door opened with a bang, and Mr. Massey plunged in. He was without a hat and wore the linen apron he always put on when he was compounding prescriptions in the back room of his shop.
With a snort he scrambled backward, the front wheels went over the edge of the dock and dragged Josephus with them. Harnessed as he was, and still attached to the shafts, the old horse went into the lake with a great splash. "Hey! Whoa! Whoa, Josephus! Jefers-pelters! ain't this a purty to-do?" roared Walky, recovering his footing with more speed than grace. "Naow see that ol' critter!
"Isuckles is aout o' season he! he!" chuckled another, frankly doubtful of Walky's generosity. "Lock up your freight house, Sam, and ye shall have it," declared Walky, with sudden briskness. "That's the ticket!" exclaimed the Doubting Thomas, with a quick change of tone. "Spoke like a soldier, Walky. I hope Joe's jest tapped a fresh kaig."
Haley as I do, I'm right sure he's innercent as the babe unborn. But, jefers-pelters! who could ha' done it?" "Why, Walky!" gasped Janice. "I know. It sounds awful, don't it?" said the expressman. "I don't whisper a word of this to other folks. But considerin' that the schoolhouse doors was locked and Mr.
"D'ye know," jerked out Walky, with his head on one side and his eyes screwed up, "that I b'lieve Josephus agrees with ye?" "Ho! ho!" laughed Marty. "Was you fresh from Lem Parraday's bar when you backed the old feller over the dock?" "Wal, I'd had a snifter," drawled Walky, his eyes twinkling.
In his excitement his gray hair was ruffled up more like a cockatoo's topknot than usual, and his eyes seemed fairly to spark. "Hopewell Drugg!" he exclaimed, spying the storekeeper. "Was my wife just in here?" "Hul-lo!" ejaculated Walky Dexter. "Hopewell hasn't been sellin' her Paris green for buckwheat flour, has he? That would kinder be in your line, wouldn't it, Massey?"
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