expect you've seen the notices," he said, and added with a
sneer: "They'd have made a much better price if I could have kept them
until the spring, and now's your chance if you have any dollars to
invest. It's a sure snap for anybody who'll help me hold them over."

One of the men laughed ironically and another asked: "Why don't you try
Charnock? He used to be a partner of yours, and he's more money than the
rest of us."

Wilkinson saw his opportunity. His companions were loafing gossips, and
those who were married would tell their wives. In a very short time the
rumor he meant to start would travel about the neighborhood, and there
was enough truth in it to make it dangerous and hard to deny.

"Charnock's deadbeat. He's as poor as you."

"His wife has plenty dollars, anyhow."

"That's so, but she's not going to give him any more," Wilkinson
rejoined. "He married Sadie for her money, and now he hasn't sense
enough to stick to her."

It was obvious that he had secured the others' attention, for they
waited eagerly, with their eyes fixed on him. The room was quiet, but a
rig came up the street and the rattle of wheels and harness drowned
the sound of steps outside. Nobody noticed that the door, which was not
quite shut, opened wider.

"What do you mean by that?" one asked.

"Bob's running after Mrs. Festing. Old sweetheart of his in England,
though he turned her down to marry Sadie. Now she's got hold of him
again--tired of Festing or has a pick on Mrs. Charnock, perhaps. Anyhow,
Bob's round the Festing place all the time, and I don't know that I
blame him much. Mrs. Festing's a looker and Sadie's a difficult woman to
live with."

"But what has Festing got to say?"

Wilkinson laughed. "Festing's a bit of a sucker and doesn't know. He's
scared about the big crop he has sown and thinks of nothing but the
weather and his farm, while Bob goes over when he's off at work. But I
guess there's trouble coming soon."

"It's coming now," said somebody, and Wilkinson's jaw fell slack, and he
sat with his mouth open as Festing strode into the room.

The latter had come to look for a smith, and hearing Wilkinson's voice
as he went up the steps, waited for a moment or two. He was too late, in
one sense, because the harm had been done, but he could not steal away.
Although the course he meant to take was not very logical, judgment
would be given against him if he did nothing. His sunburned face was
rather white and he sto