to ketch a wooden-legged man
and saw his leg off about halfway up? Jest lay him across a saw buck
and saw her off while he hollered and fit. Most comical notion I ever
had."

"Would make a feller laugh."

"More 'special if his spare leg was stole away and he didn't have
nothin' but the sawed-off one. Sich a man would have difficulty gittin'
any place he wanted to git to.... G'-by, Ham. G'-by, Tilley. Hope the
meetin' comes out right to-morrer."

Scattergood went inside and looked at his bank book. In two months his
deposits from sales had amounted to something like a hundred dollars.
The situation spelled nothing less than bankruptcy, but Scattergood
replaced the book and waddled out to his piazza, where he sat in the
cool of the evening, twiddling his toes and looking from the store of
one competitor to the store of another, reflectively.

At a late hour a small boy named Newcamp delivered a bulky package to
Scattergood, and vanished into the darkness. The package was about large
enough to contain a timber leg.

The town seethed with politics next morning, and the deacon was in the
center of it. The meeting was called for ten o'clock. At nine thirty a
small boy wriggled up to the deacon and whispered in his ear. The deacon
quickly made his way out of the crowd and down the stairs into the
basement room under the barber shop--for news had been given him of a
chance to swap for votes. He burst into the room, and stopped, frowning,
for Tilley Newcamp stood before him. Hamilcar Jones was not at the
moment visible, because he was behind the door, which he slammed shut
and locked.

No word was uttered, but a Trojan struggle ensued. It was two against
one, but even those odds did not daunt the deacon. It was full five
minutes before he was flat on his back, panting and uttering such
burning and searing words as might properly fall from the lips of a
Baptist deacon. Tilley Newcamp, who was heavy, sat on his chest.
Hamilcar Jones dragged up a saw buck and laid the deacon's timber leg
across it.... The deacon saw and comprehended, and lifted up his voice.
Another five minutes were consumed in returning him to quiescence. And
then the saw did its work, while the deacon breathed threats of blood
and torture, and regretted that his religion prevented him from using
language better suited to his purpose. The leg was severed; a fragment
full ten inches long fell from the end, and the deacon's assailants drew
away, their fell