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Calc'late you'll see I figgered clost to right.... Marthy's a-sittin' there with Jed in the hammick, and they're a-holdin' on their lap the doggondest best soothin' syrup f'r man and wife that any doctor c'u'd perscribe.... Calculate it's one of them nature's remedies.... Go take a look, Postmaster.... G'-by."
Linderman scrutinized Scattergood intently and nodded his head. "And you want me " "Put up the money. Git the stock. Lemme handle it. Gimme twenty per cent." "In stock?" "Calc'late so." "Baines," said Linderman, "I'll go you. Crane and Keith are due for a lesson." "Ready now?" "Yes." "G'-by, Mr. Linderman. Have money when I want it. G'-by."
Patterson," said Scattergood, hastily, and he climbed into his buggy clumsily, placing the baby on the seat beside him, and holding it in place with his left arm. "G'-by." The buggy rattled off. The baby hushed suddenly and began to look at the horse. "Kind of come to your senses, eh?" said Scattergood. "Now you and me's goin' to git on fine if you jest keep your mouth shet.
I want Marthy, and I guess Marthy wants me, but we want each other like we was five year back and not like we be now." "Been married five year, hain't you?" "Five year last April." "Um!... Wa-al, I hope nothin' comes of it, Jed. But if it has to it will. Better live happy separate than unhappy together.... G'-by, Jed."
"I've been a bit delayed in the delivery of the rest of the stock," he told Scattergood, and there was cold moisture on his forehead. "Would you mind waiting until to-morrow?" "Guess I'll have to," said Scattergood. "G'-by. Better be movin' around spry. I want to git back home." That night McCann wired his employers to get back home as quickly as conveyances would carry them.
What are you interfering for?" "Kind of a habit with me," said Scattergood, "and my wife hain't ever been able to cure me, even puttin' things in my coffee on the sly.... G'-by, Homer. And don't go lickin' nobody. G'-by." The habit of obedience to Scattergood's customary dismissal was strong in Coldriver.
G'-by." She sauntered back to the picnic, and observed, "What is that purple flower up on the mountain side?" The big car was sedately purring back when it was insulted by an intermediate host of a machine that came jumping out of a side road. The vulgar driver hailed them with uncouth howling. The Gilsons' chauffeur stopped, annoyed. "Why, hello folks," bawled the social bandit. "Oh.
"G'-by," he said, and went to a distant corner, where he seated himself and stared out of the window, trying to imagine what he would do if he were Ovid Nixon, and what would make him appropriate three thousand dollars.... At twelve o'clock he lumbered over to the cigar case. "C'm on," he said. "Hain't got no time to waste." The girl put on her hat and they walked out together.
"You won't have to take so much sody followin' meals to sweeten you up.... G'-by, Deacon.... Soothin' syrup. Um!... I swanny...." He looked across the square and saw that Pliny Pickett was delighting an audience with apochryphal reminiscences, doubtless of a gallant and spicy character.
"Yes." "Hard up?" "I can live a few days but " "Hain't no buts. You kin live as long as I say so. You stay hitched to this here hitchin' post, and I'll 'tend to the money. Jest don't do nothin' but be where you be and be makin' up your mind if Homer's the boy you kin love and cherish, or if he's nothin' but a sort of shady restin' place.... G'-by." He got up abruptly and went out.
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