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That morning he had received his weekly letter from Vona. She confessed to him that for some weeks she had refrained from telling him that Tasper Britt was a member of the household. She explained under what circumstances Britt was there and what her attitude was and would continue to be.
Another citizen was more venturesome: "I'm taking it for granted that you don't intend to keep old-bach hall in a house like that, Tasper!" Britt took down the shield. He displayed a countenance of bland satisfaction. "I don't think I'll be allowed to do it," he retorted, answering jest with jest. "You know what women are when they see a good-looking house needing a mistress."
"Well, I'll be dimdaddled!" grunted Mr. Bangs. His was the only comment on the departure of Prophet Elias from the land of Egypt that is to say, the only comment passed by the group in front of Files's tavern. Tasper Britt went his way toward the Harnden home, his lodgings still. Usial Britt closed his cottage door. Bangs found the sticky chill of the fog uncomfortable.
Tasper Britt "Twelve-per-cent Britt" trimmed his slumber at both ends was owl and early bird, both, in his pursuit of the pence of the people, and got 'em coming and going. He was the money boss for the town of Egypt, and those who did not give him his per cent nickname called him "Phay-ray-oh" but behind his back, of course. To his face his debt slaves bespoke his favor obsequiously.
"I have started in on the basis of the whole truth, and I'm coming through, men. I'm following your lead. I was framed in that bank matter. There was a man who had the opportunity to exchange junk for that gold. He made that opportunity for himself by working on my good nature. The man is Tasper Britt, who was the president of that bank. He took the money. He knows where it is."
By the wiles of Wagg and a soap diet Frank Vaniman had been able to secure his modest slice of God's sunlight. There was aplenty of that sunshine in Egypt. It flooded the bare hills and the barren valleys; there were not trees enough to trig the sunlight's flood with effective barriers of shade. Tasper Britt walked out into it from the door of Files's tavern.
Still mindful of what Tasper had said about the State House rules of that evening, she did not want to take chances with others who might be less amenable than Florist-Clerk Wyman. There were high-backed chairs in the corners of the hall; she hid herself behind the nearest chair. Her dark fur coat and the twilight concealed her effectually.
Tasper fenced, eying her with some curiosity. "Dealing in news is your business, not mine," she said, tartly. "But I did hear him declare in public to-night that he would give the people a square deal or that he would see to it that it is done or or something!" She showed the embarrassment of a person who was dealing with affairs in the details of which she was not well informed.
Jones and his associates scowled at the cashier, and Vaniman understood with added bitterness the extent of his vicarious atonement as Britt's mouthpiece at the wicket of the bank. "The interest-payers of this town have been well dreened. But the voters the voters, understand, still have assets. The voters have got to the point where they ain't afraid of Tasper Britt.
"Tasper," he advised, briskly, "seeing that you're now in a happy haven, as the wife says, why waste time and temper on this town? The only reason why I have kept my home here is because the town is solid rock and makes a good jumping-off place for me; I can get a firm toe hold. Why do you bother with a dinky office like the one you started out for?
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