ife." Not
until the first scattered houses of the village were reached did the
lightkeeper awaken from his trance sufficiently to notice that the old
horse was limping slightly with the right forefoot.

"Hello!" exclaimed Seth. "What's the matter with you, Josh?"

Joshua slopped on, but this was a sort of three-legged progress. The
driver leaned forward and then pulled on the reins.

"Whoa!" he ordered. "Stand still!"

Joshua stood still, almost with enthusiasm. Seth tucked the end of the
reins between the whip socket and the dashboard, and swung out of
the wagon to make an examination. Lifting the lame foot, he found the
trouble at once. The shoe was loose.

"Humph!" he soliloquized. "Cal'late you and me'll have to give Benijah
a job. Well," climbing back into the vehicle, "I said I'd never give him
another after the row we had about the last, but I ain't got ambition
enough to go clear over to the Denboro blacksmith's. I don't care. I
don't care about nothin' any more. Giddap."

Benijah Ellis's little, tumble-down blacksmith shop was located in the
main street of Eastboro, if that hit-or-miss town can be said to possess
a main street. Atkins drove up to its door, before which he found
Benijah and a group of loungers inspecting an automobile, the body of
which had been removed in order that the engine and running gear might
be the easier reached. The blacksmith was bending over the car, his head
and shoulders down amidst the machinery; a big wrench was in his hand,
and other wrenches, hammers, and tools of various sizes were scattered
on the ground beside him.

"Hello, Benije," grunted Seth.

Ellis removed his nose from its close proximity to the gear shaft
and straightened up. He was a near-sighted, elderly man, and wore
spectacles. Just now his hands, arms, and apron were covered with grease
and oil, and, as he wiped his forehead with the hand not holding the
wrench, he left a wide mourning band across it.

"Well?" he panted. "Who is it? Who wants me?"

One of the loafers, who had been assisting the blacksmith by holding his
pipe while he dove into the machinery, languidly motioned toward the new
arrival. Benijah adjusted his spectacles and walked over to the wagon.

"Who is it?" he asked crossly. Then, as he recognized his visitor, he
grunted: "Ugh! it's you, hey. Well, what do YOU want?"

"Want you to put a new shoe on this horse of mine," replied Seth, not
too graciously.

"Is that so! Well, I'm bu