CHAPTER XIV

HE TREATS AN ATTACK OF LIFE


Scattergood Baines lounged back in his armchair, reinforced by iron
crosspieces to sustain his weight, and basked in the warmth from the
Round Oak stove, heated to redness by the clean, dry maple within. He
was drowsy. For the time he had ceased even to search for a scheme
whereby he could rid his hardware stock of one dozen sixteen-pound
sledge hammers acquired by him at a recent auction down in Tupper Falls.
His eyes were closed and his soul was at peace.

Somebody rattled the door knob and then rapped on the door. This was so
unusual a method of seeking entrance to a hardware store that
Scattergood sat up abruptly, blinking.

"Wa-al," he said, tartly, "be you comin' in, or be you goin' to stand
out there wagglin' that door knob all day?"

"I'm coming in, Mr. Baines, as soon as I can contrive to open the door,"
replied a male voice, a voice that appeared incapable of expressing
impatience; a gentle voice; the voice of a man who would dream dreams
but perform few actions.

"Um!... It's you, hey? What d'you allus carry books under your arm for?
How d'you calculate to be able to open doors, with both hands full?"

The knob turned at last, and Nahum Pound, long schoolmaster in the