allway without waiting for any reply. He put on his
cap and finished pulling on his overcoat when he was outside the house.
His first impulse was to stride away from the village--go out along the
country road to avoid the men who scowled at him as Britt's right-hand
servitor.

But he noted that some kind of tumult seemed to be going on in the
village--and any kind of tumult fitted the state of his emotions right
then. He hurried toward the tavern.

Up and down the street men were marching, to and fro before Usial's
shop. Vaniman saw tossing torches and the light revealed that some of
the marchers wore oilcloth capes, evidently relics of some past and gone
political campaign when parades were popular.

There was music, of a sort. A trombone blatted--there was the staccato
tuck of a snare drum, and the boom of a bass drum came in with
isochronal beats.

Vaniman went to the tavern porch and stood there with other onlookers.

"Give Ike Jones half a chance with that old tramboon of his and he ain't
no slouch as a musicianer," remarked Landlord Files to the young man. "I
hope Egypt is waking up to stay so."

"If we keep on, the town will get to be lively enough to suit even a
city chap like you are," said another citizen. "Hope you're going to
stay with us!" But there was no cordiality in that implied invitation;
that there was malice which hoped to start something was promptly
revealed. "In spite of what is reported about Tasp Britt firing you out
of your job!" sneered the man.

The morrow held no promise for Vaniman, no matter what the Squire had
said in the way of reassurance. To stay with Britt in that bank would
be intolerable punishment. He decided that he might as well talk back
to Egypt as Egypt deserved to be talked to, considering what line of
contumely had been passed in through that bank wicket. He was obliged
to speak loudly in order to be heard over the trombone and the drums.
Therefore, everybody in the crowd got what he said; he was young, deeply
stirred, and he had held back his feelings for a long time. "I'm going
to leave this God-forsaken, cat-fight dump just as soon as I can make my
arrangements to get away. Good night!"

He was ashamed of himself the moment that speech was out of his mouth.
He was so much ashamed that he immediately became afraid he would
be moved to apologize; and he was also ashamed to apologize. He was,
therefore, suffering from a peculiar mixture of emotions, and realized
t