"
He didn't dare. He just run up a storm sail and beat for harbor back of
the barn. And from the piazza Milo cackled vainglorious.
Me and Cap'n Jonadab and Peter T. felt so sorry for Eddie, knowing what
he had coming to him from the Duchess, that we went out to see him. He
was setting on a wrecked hencoop, looking heart-broke but puzzled.
"'Twas that Saltmarsh made me lose my nerve," he says. "I thought when
he wouldn't bid there was something wrong with the dishes. And there WAS
something wrong, too. Now what was it?"
"Maybe the price was too high," says I.
"No, 'twa'n't that. I b'lieve yet he thought they were imitations. Oh,
if they only were!"
And then, lo and behold you, around the corner comes Adoniram Rogers.
I'd have bet large that whatever conscience Adoniram was born with had
dried up and blown away years ago. But no; he'd resurrected a remnant.
"Mr. Small," stammered Mr. Rogers, "I'm sorry you feel bad about not
buying them dishes. I--I thought I'd ought to tell you--that is to say,
I--Well, if you want another set, I cal'late I can get it for you--that
is, if you won't tell nobody."
"ANOTHER set?" hollers Eddie, wide-eyed. "Anoth--Do you mean to say
you've got MORE?"
"Why, I ain't exactly got 'em now, but my nephew John keeps a furniture
store in South Boston, and he has lots of sets like that. I bought that
one off him."
Peter T. Brown jumps to his feet.
Pages:
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175