fitt standing
before him.

"Why, Offitt. is that you? I did not hear you. You always come up as
soft as a spook!"

"Yes, that's me. Where's Sam?"

"Sam's gone to Shady Creek on an excursion with his lodge. My wife went
with him."

"I wanted to see him. I think a heap of Sam."

"So do I. Sam is a good fellow."

"Excuse my making so free, Mr. Matchin, but I once thought Sam was
going to be a son-in-law of yours."

"Well, betwixt us, Mr. Offitt, I hoped so myself. But you know what
girls is. She jest wouldn't."

"So it's all done, is it? No chance for Sam?" Offitt asked eagerly.

"Not as much as you could hold sawdust in your eye," the carpenter
answered.

"Well, now, Mr. Matchin, I have got something to say." ("Oh, Lordy,"
groaned Saul to himself, "here's another one.") "I wouldn't take no
advantage of a friend; but if Sam's got no chance, as you say, why
shouldn't I try? With your permission, sir, I will."

"Now look ye here, Mr. Offitt. I don't know as I have got anything
against you, but I don't know nothing _fur_ you. If it's a fair
question, how do you make your livin'?"

"That's all right. First place, I have got a good trade. I'm a
locksmith."

"So I have heard you say. But you don't work at it."

"No," Offitt answered; and then, assuming a confidential air, he
continued, "As I am to be one of the family, I'll tell you. I don't
work at my trade, because I have got a better thing. I am a Reformer."

"You don't say!" exclaimed Saul. "I never heard o' your lecturin'."

"I don't lecture. I am secretary of a grand section of Labor Reformers,
and I git a good salary for it."

"Oh, I see," said Saul, not having the least idea of what it all meant.
But, like most fathers of his kind, he made no objection to the man's
proposal, and told him his daughter was in the house. As Offitt walked
away on the same quest where Bott had so recently come to wreck, Saul
sat smiling, and nursing his senile vanity with the thought that there
were not many mechanics' daughters in Buffland that could get two
offers in one Sunday from "professional men." He sat with the contented
inertness of old men on his well-worn bench, waiting to see what would
be the result of the interview.

"I don't believe she'll have him," he thought. "He ain't half the man
that Sam is, nor half the scholar that Bott is."

It was well he was not of an impatient temperament. He sat quietly
there for more than an hour, as still as a knot on a