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Updated: May 10, 2025
"He catched me foul," explained the indignant Tom Britt the following day in discussing his hurried exit from the schoolroom; "if he had only let me know he was coming, it would be him that dove out the door instead of me." The sullen youth did not receive much sympathy at first, for Mr.
The manner in which Britt entered the room proclaimed a distinctive character. He edged himself through the door, not stealthily, but carelessly, casually. He, too, was tall, with a wide, dark beard curling over very pink and rather plump cheeks, and in his bright black eyes a sardonic sheen played as he loosely shook his host's hand.
"He was very peremptory at first and very agreeable in the end, Mrs. Browne. I said we'd come down at four-thirty. He asked me to bring some cigarettes. Say, he's a strenuous chap. He wouldn't haggle for a second." Britt and Saunders found the Enemy waiting for them under the awning in front of the bank.
Britt sat there smiling upon him, and urging him to have "just one more piece of pie, and another cruller." Never before had he felt so important. He was the guest being treated with such respect. When holding the tiller that morning he had longed for Sammie Dunker and the rest of the boys to see him. So now, sitting near the bluff old captain and his wife, he desired the same thing.
Of course, I thought she'd understand." "Don't you love her, Saunders?" "Oh, I say, my lord, that's rather a pointed question. My word, it is, sir! There may have been a bit of er well, you know between us, sir, but that's all, that's quite all. Absurdly all, 'pon my soul." "Saunders," said Britt solemnly, "I am her attorney. Be careful what you say in my presence."
His voice was mellow with sincere feeling. Said the Prophet: "'Behold, thou art fair, my love; thou hast doves' eyes within thy locks. Thy teeth are like a flock of sheep which came up from the washing. Thy lips are like a thread of scarlet, and thy speech is comely. Thou art all fair, my love; there is no spot in thee." Mr. Britt did not wait in his office for the completion of the panegyric.
But Britt gave out no information. "Back with the talk-tickler! Hold it closer! The same foot! We've got a good start on that one." The man in the van felt his gorge rising, in spite of the fact that the victim was a relentless persecutor of others. The stifled accents of agony were dreadful. After a time the short man spoke.
An observer would have called the contest of mutual inspection a fifty-fifty break perhaps with a shade in favor of Britt, for the usurer's face was like leather and his goggling marbles of eyes under the lids that resembled little tents did not flicker. "What can I do for you?" Britt demanded, and the query made for the young man's discomposure. "Why, you called me in, sir!"
Mr. Britt knew that men were cutting hoop poles and timber for shooks; Egypt earned ready money with which to pay interest, getting out shooks and hoop poles. That occupation had been the resource of the pioneers, and the descendants stuck to the work, knowing how to do it better than anything else. There was not enough soil for farming on a real money-making scale.
"There's something the trouble in this town and I'd like to know what it is." "There it is," barked Britt, pointing to Elias. "That's the principal trouble a lunatic spreading lunacy like smallpox." "But what is it all about?" insisted Bangs, "What's this new excitement?" "I know nothing about any excitement, sir. I attend to business instead of gossip.
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