"Graham and Duncan, sir. I've been taken into partnership."
"Have, eh?" Blinky grunted mysteriously and fished in his pocket for
some bills and silver. "Wal, here's some change comin' to the firm,
then; and here," he added, producing the document in question, "is
Sam's note."
"Thank you." Duncan ceremoniously deposited both in the till, going
behind the soda fountain to do so, and then waited, expectant. Blinky
was grunting busily in the key of one about to make an important
communication.
"I'm glad you're a-comin' in here with Sam," he said at length, with an
acid grimace that was meant to be a smile.
"Oh, it may be only temporary." Nat endeavoured to assume a seraphic
expression, and partially succeeded. "I'm devoting much of my time to
my studies," he pursued primly; "but nevertheless feel I should be
earning something, too."
"That's right; that's the kind of spirit I like to see in a young
man.... You always go to church, don't you?"
"No, sir--Sundays only."
"That's what I mean. D'you drink?"
"Oh, no, sir," Duncan parroted glibly: "don't smoke, drink, swear, and
on Sundays I go to church."
The bland smile with which he faced Lockwood's keen scrutiny disarmed
suspicion.
"I'm glad to hear that," Blinky told him. "I'm at the head of the
temp'rance movement here, and I hope you'll join us, and set an example
to our fast young men."
"I feel sure I could do that," said Duncan meekly.
Lockwood removed his hat, exposing the cranium of a bald-headed eagle,
and fanned himself. "Warm to-day," he observed in an endeavour to be
genial that all but sprained his temperament.
Indeed, so great was the strain that he winked violently.
Duncan observed this phenomenon with natural astonishment not unmixed
with awe. "Yes, sir, very," he agreed, wondering what it might portend.
"I believe I'll have a glass of sody."
"Certainly." Duncan, by now habituated to the formulae of soda
dispensing, promptly produced a bright and shining glass.
"I see you've been fixin' this place up some."
"Oh, yes," said Nat loftily. "We expect to have the best drugstore in
the State. We're getting in new stock to-day, and naturally things are
a little out of order, but we'll straighten up without delay. We'll try
to deserve your esteemed patronage," he concluded doubtfully, with a
hazy impression that such a speech would be considered appropriate
under the circumstances.
"You shall have it, Mr. Duncan, you shall have it!"
"Thank you, I'm sure.... What syrup would you prefer?"
"Just sody," stipulated Lockwood.
His spasmodic wink again smote Duncan's understanding a mighty blow.
Unable to believe his eyes, he hedged and stammered. Could it be--?
This from the leader of the temperance movement in Radville?
"I beg pardon----?"
His denseness irritated Blinky slightly, with the result that the right
side of his face again underwent an alarming convulsion. "I say," he
explained carefully, "just--_plain_--sody."
"On the level?"
"What?" grunted Blinky; and blinked again.
A smile of comprehension irradiated Nat's features. "Pardon," he said,
"I'm a little new to the business."
Blinky, fanning himself industriously, glared round the store while
Duncan, turning his back, discreetly found and uncorked the whiskey
bottle. He was still a trifle dubious about the transaction, but on the
sound principles of doing all things thoroughly, poured out a liberal
dose of raw, red liquor. Then, with his fingers clamped tightly about
the bottom of the glass, the better to conceal its contents from any
casual but inquisitive passer-by, he quickly filled it with soda and
placed it before Blinky, accompanying the action with the sweetest of
childlike smiles.
Lockwood, nodding his acknowledgments, lifted the glass to his lips.
Duncan awaited developments with some apprehension. To his relief,
however, Blinky, after an experimental swallow, emptied the mixture
expeditiously into his system; and smacked his thin lips resoundingly.
"How," he demanded, "can anyone want intoxicatin' likers when
they can get such a bracin' drink as that?"
"I pass," Nat breathed, limp with admiration of such astounding
hypocrisy.
Blinky reluctantly pried a nickel loose from his finances and placed it
on the counter. Duncan regarded it with disdain.
"Ten cents more, please," he suggested tactfully.
"What for?"
"Plain sody." The explanation was accompanied by a very passable
imitation of Blinky's blink.
Happily for Duncan, Blinky has no sense of humour: if he had he would
explode the very first time he indulged in introspection.
"Not much," said he with his sour smile. "I guess you're jokin'....
Well, good luck to you, Mr. Duncan. I'd like to have you come round and
see us some evenin'."
"Thank you very much, sir." Duncan accompanied Blinky to the door.
"I've already had the pleasure of meeting your daughter, sir. She's a
charming girl."
"I'm real glad you think so," said Blinky, intensely gratified. "She
seems to've taken a great shine to you, too. Come round and get
'quainted with the hull family. You're the sort of young feller I'd
like her to know." He paused and looked Nat up and down captiously,
as one might appraise the points of a horse of quality put up for sale.
"Good-day," said he, with the most significant of winks.
"Oh, that's all right," Nat hastened to reassure him. "I won't say a
word about it."
Blinky, on the point of leaving, started to question this (to him)
cryptic utterance, but luckily had the current of his thoughts diverted
by the entrance of Roland Barnette, in company with his friend Mr.
Burnham.
Roland's consternation at this unexpected encounter was, in the mildest
term, extreme. At sight of his employer he pulled up as if slapped.
"Oh!" he faltered, "I didn't know you was here, sir."
"No," said Blinky with keen relish, "I guess you didn't."
"I--ah--come over to see Sam about that note," stammered Roland.
"Wal, don't you bother your head 'bout what ain't your business, Roly.
Come on back to the bank."
"All right, sir." Roland grasped frantically at the opportunity to
emphasise his importance. "Excuse me, Mr. Lockwood, but I'd like to
interdoos you to a friend of mine, Mr. Burnham from Noo York."
Amused, Burnham stepped into the breach. "How are you?" he said with
the proper nuance of cordiality, offering his hand.
Lockwood shook it unemotionally. "How de do?" he said, perfunctory.
"I brought Mr. Burnham in to see Sam----"
"Yes," Burnham interrupted Roland quickly; "Barnette's been kind enough
to show me round town a bit."
"Here on business?" inquired Lockwood pointedly.
"No, not exactly," returned Burnham with practised ease, "just looking
round."
"Only lookin', eh?" Blinky's countenance underwent one of its erratic
quakes as he examined Burnham with his habitual intentness.
The New Yorker caught the wink and lost breath. "Ah--yes--that's all,"
he assented uneasily. And as he spoke another wink dumbfounded him.
"Why?" he asked, with a distinct loss of assurance. "Don't you believe
it."
"Don't see no reason why I shouldn't," grunted Blinky. "Hope you'll
like what you see. Good day."
"So long ... Mr. Lockwood," returned Burnham uncertainly.