to discharge a clerk."

"You hain't got money enough to start a store," Old Man Penny squawked.
"Why, you hain't even got a satchel! You come walkin' in like a tramp."

"There's tramps--and tramps," said Scattergood, placidly. He reached far
down into a trousers pocket and tugged to the light of day a roll that
his fingers could not encircle. He looked at it fondly, tossed it up in
the air a couple of times and caught it, and then held it between thumb
and forefinger until the eyes of his audience had assured themselves
that the outside bill was yellow and its denomination twenty dollars....
The audience gulped.

"Meals to the tavern perty good?" Coldriver's new citizen asked.

"Say," demanded Locker, "be you really thinkin' about startin' a cash
store here?"

"Neighbor," said Scattergood, "never give up valuable information
without gittin' somethin' for it. How much money would a complete and
careful account of my intentions be worth to you?"

Locker snorted. "Bet that wad of bills is a dummy with a counterfeit
twenty outside of it," he said.

Scattergood smiled tantalizingly. Locker had not, fortunately for
Scattergood, the least idea how close to the truth he had been. On one
point only had he been mistaken. The twenty outside was _not_
counterfeit. However, except for three fives, four twos, and ninety
cents in silver, it represented Scattergood's total cash capital.

"I'm goin'," said Scattergood, "to order me _two_ suppers. Two! From
bean soup to apple pie. It's my birthday. Twenty-six to-day, and I
always eat two suppers on my birthdays.... Glad you leadin' citizens see
fit to give me such a hearty welcome to your town. Right kind and
generous of you."

He turned and ambled down the road toward the tavern, planting his bare
feet with evident pleasure in the deepest of the warm sand, and flirting
up little clouds of it behind him. The audience saw him seat himself on
the tavern steps and pull on his shoes. They were too far to hear him
say speculatively to himself: "I never heard tell of a man gittin' a
start in life jest that way--but _that_ hain't any reason it can't be
done. I'm goin' to do this town good, and this valley. Hain't no more 'n
fair them leadin' citizens should give me what help they feel they kin."

Scattergood ate with ease and pleasure two complete suppers--to the
openly expressed admiration of Emma, the waitress. Very shortly
afterward he retired to his room, where, not trusting to t