iled in and
hurried off the stuff, I presume likely?"

Jed nodded. "Why--why, yes, of course," he said. "You see, they
said they wanted it right away."

His friend groaned. "Gracious king!" he exclaimed. "How many
times have I told you to let me look up credits for you when you
get an order from a stranger? Well, there's no use talkin' to you.
Give me this letter. I'll see what I can squeeze out of your Funny
friend. . . . But, say," he added, "I can't stop but a minute, and
I ran in to ask you if you'd changed your mind about rentin' the
old house here. If you have, I believe I've got a good tenant for
you."

Jed looked troubled. He laid down the hammer and took the last
nail from his mouth.

"Now--now, Sam," he began, "you know--"

"Oh, I know you've set your thick head dead against rentin' it at
all, but that's silly, as I've told you a thousand times. The
house is empty and it doesn't do any house good to stay empty.
Course if 'twas anybody but you, Jed Winslow, you'd live in it
yourself instead of campin' out in this shack here."

Jed sat down on the box he had just nailed and, taking one long leg
between his big hands, pulled its knee up until he could have
rested his chin upon it without much inconvenience.

"I know, Sam," he drawled gravely, "but that's the trouble--I ain't
been anybody but me for forty-five years."

The captain smiled, in spite of his impatience. "And you won't be
anybody else for the next forty-five," he said, "I know that. But
all the same, bein' a practical, more or less sane man myself, it
makes me nervous to see a nice, attractive, comfortable little
house standin' idle while the feller that owns it eats and sleeps
in a two-by-four sawmill, so to speak. And, not only that, but
won't let anybody else live in the house, either. I call that a
dog in the manger business, and crazy besides."

The big foot at the end of the long leg swung slowly back and
forth. Mr. Winslow looked absently at the roof.

"DON'T look like that!" snapped Captain Sam. "Come out of it!
Wake up! It always gives me the fidgets to see you settin' gapin'
at nothin'. What are you daydreamin' about now, eh?"

Jed turned and gazed over his spectacles.

"I was thinkin'," he observed, "that most likely that dog himself
was crazy. If he wasn't he wouldn't have got into the manger. I
never saw a dog that wanted to climb into a manger, did you, Sam?"

"Oh, confound the manger and the dog, too