"All right." Keith's eyes snapped, and presently, as the outer man's
gaze rested on him, his snapped also.

So the compact was struck, and the trustee went on to give further
information.

"Your hours will be as usual," said he: "from seven to two and fo' to
six in summer, and half-past seven to two and three to five in winter,
and you'll find all the books necessary in the book-chist. We had to
have 'em locked up to keep 'em away from the rats and the
dirt-daubers. Some of 'em's right smartly de-faced, but I reckon you'll
git on with 'em all right."

"Well, those are pretty long hours," said Gordon. "Seems to me they had
better be shortened. I shall--"

"Them's the usual hours," interrupted the old man, positively. "I've
been trustee now for goin' on twenty-six year, an' th'ain't never been
any change in 'em. An' I ain't see as they've ever been too
long--leastways, I never see as the scholars ever learned too much in
'em. They ain't no longer than a man has to work in the field, and the
work's easier."

Gordon looked at the old man keenly. It was his first battle, and it had
come on at once, as his father had warned him. The struggle was bitter,
if brief, but he conquered--conquered himself. The old countryman's face
had hardened.

"If you want to give satisfaction you'd better try to learn them
scholars an' not the trustees," he said dryly. "The Dennison boys is