A BUSINESS CALL
That enterprising business man, Mr. "Web" Saunders, opened the door of his renovated billiard room a little later than usual the next morning. It was common report about the village that Mr. Saunders occasionally sampled the contents of some of the "original packages"which, bearing the name and address of a Boston wholesale liquor dealer, came to him by express at irregular intervals. It was also reported, probably by unreliable total abstainers, that during these "sampling" seasons his temper was not of the best. Perhaps Mrs.
Saunders might have said something concerning this report if she had been so disposed, but unless a discolored eye might be taken as evidence, she never offered any. The injury to her eye she explained by saying that something "flew up and hit her." This was no doubt true.
But, gossip aside, Mr. Saunders did not seem in good humor on this particular morning. A yellow cur, of nondescript breed, taken since the fire, in payment of a debt from "Squealer" Wixon, who had described it as a "fust-class watchdog," rose from its bed behind the cigar counter, yawned, stretched, and came slinking over to greet its master. "Web" forcibly hoisted it out of the door on the toe of his boot. Its yelp of pained surprise seemed to afford the business man considerable relief, for he moved more briskly afterward, and proceeded to sweep the floor with some degree of speed.
The forenoon trade at the billiard room was never very lively, and this forenoon was no exception. "Bluey" Batcheldor drifted in, stepped into the little room the door of which was lettered "Ice Cream Parlor," and busied himself with a glass and bottle for a few moments. Then he helped himself to a cigar from the showcase, and told his friend to "chalk it up." This Mr. Saunders didn't seem to care to do, and there was a lively argument. At length "Bluey's"promise to "square up in a day or so" was accepted, under protest, and the customer departed.
At half-past eleven the man of business was dozing in a chair by the stove, and the "watchdog," having found it chilly outside and venturing in, was dozing near him. The bell attached to the door rang vigorously, and both dog and man awoke with a start. The visitor was Captain Eri.
Now, the Captain was perhaps the last person whom the proprietor of the billiard room expected to see, but a stranger never would have guessed it. In fact, the stranger might reasonably have supposed that the visitor was Mr. Saunders' dearest friend, and that his call was a pleasure long looked forward to.
"Why, Cap'n!" exclaimed "Web," "how are you? Put her there! I'm glad to see you lookin' so well. I said to 'Squealer' the other day, s'I, 'Squealer, I never see a man hold his age like Cap'n Hedge. I'll be blessed if he looks a day over forty,' I says.
Take off your coat, won't you?"
Somehow or other, the Captain must have lost sight of "Web's"extended hand. Certainly, the hand was large enough to be seen, but he did not take it. He did, however, accept the invitation to remove his coat, and, slipping out of the faded brown pea jacket, threw it on a settee at the side of the room. His face was stern and his manner quiet, and in spite Of Mr. Saunders' flattering reference to his youthful appearance, this morning he looked at least more than a day past forty.
But, if Captain Eri was more than usually quiet and reserved, "Web"was unchanged, and, if he noticed that the handshake was declined, said nothing about it. His smile was sweetness itself, as he observed, "Well, Cap'n, mighty mod'rate weather we're having for this time of year, ain't it? What's new down your way? That's right, have a chair."The Captain had no doubt anticipated this cordial invitation, for he seated himself before it was given, and, crossing his legs, extended his dripping rubber boots toward the fire. The rain was still falling, and it beat against the windows of the saloon in gusts.
"Web," said Captain Eri, "set down a minute. I want to talk to you.""Why, sure!" exclaimed the genial man of business, pulling up another chair. "Have a cigar, won't you? You don't come to see me very often, and I feel's though we ought to celebrate. Ha! ha! ha!""No, I guess not, thank you," was the answer. "I'll smoke my pipe, if it's all the same to you."Mr. Saunders didn't mind in the least, but thought he would have a cigar himself. So he lit one and smoked in silence as the Captain filled his pipe. "Web" knew that this was something more than an ordinary social visit. Captain Eri's calls at the billiard room were few and far between. The Captain, for his part, knew what his companion was thinking, and the pair watched each other through the smoke.
The pipe drew well, and the Captain sent a blue cloud whirling toward the ceiling. Then he asked suddenly, "Web, how much money has Elsie Preston paid you altogether?"Mr. Saunders started the least bit, and his small eyes narrowed a trifle. But the innocent surprise in his reply was a treat to hear.
"Elsie? Paid ME?" he asked.
"Yes. How much has she paid you?"
"I don't know what you mean."
"Yes, you do. She's been payin' you money reg'lar for more 'n a month. I want to know how much it is.""Now, Cap'n Hedge, I don't know what you're talkin' about.
Nobody's paid me a cent except them that's owed me. Who did you say? Elsie Preston? That's the school-teacher, ain't it?""Web, you're a liar, and always was, but you needn't lie to me this mornin', 'cause it won't be healthy; I don't feel like hearin' it.
You understand that, do you?"
Mr. Saunders thought it time to bluster a little. He rose to his feet threateningly.
"Cap'n Hedge," he said, "no man 'll call me a liar.""There's a precious few that calls you anything else.""You're an old man, or I'd--"
