s
slippery stuff, an' money a dum sight more so, an' every storeman allus
puts the best apples on top o' the basket. I've bought and paid for a
mighty lot o' 'sperience 'bout mankind, an' all I've got to show for
most on't is the 'sperience. I've picked up a little money, too, 'tween
times, but the only reason I hev, was 'cause I got sight on't 'fore the
other feller did. I like you, Mr. Hardy, fust-rate, on so short
acquaintance, an' know yer honest 'n' all right, but the side-whiskered
feller who blew in here last summer 'n' bought this yer quarry
offhand--wal, I mean no disrespect to yer firm, but in my humble
'pinion he'd bear watchin'. Now I'm goin' ter stand by ye in this matter
'n' do all I ken to help you make a go on't, an' if ye'll trust me all
the time, ye won't regret it."

It was a pleasant assurance, but the cloud on Winn's face remained. He
had from the outset hoped to interest this old man, who he realized held
the key of Rockhaven, as it were, and whose opinion of his mission
there, and the merits of Rockhaven stock as an investment, would without
doubt be accepted by others as final. His own belief in it was
optimistic, and beyond that it meant to him a success in business and an
avenue to prosperity that included all wealth meant to any one. So far
in life he had been but a mere menial, a poorly paid drudge, a slave to
so many hours a day. Now he was at once elevated to the management of
men and money, and assumed that it would be to his credit and necessary
that he interest the people and induce them to invest their money. For
these reasons the lack of confidence on Jess Hutton's part meant
discouragement.

"Ye mustn't mind my notions," Jess said at last, reading Winn's face; "I
mean to help ye, 'n' I will, only as I said I'm a leetle skeery o' yer
consarn. Ef things go on right fer a spell, I most likely'll feel
different. I've got pinched in schemes afore, an' grown cautious.
Faith, ez the parson says, is a mustard seed 'n' needs time to sprout.
We'll watch thet air mustard seed o' yourn, 'n' gin it time ter sprout.
Now, to sorter drive away your blues an' mine, I'm goin' to fiddle a
spell; ye won't mind, will ye?"

"I should be delighted," answered Winn, with sudden eagerness, "I have
heard you were an expert with a violin. Mr. Weston said you were." He
did not deem it wise just then to say who else had stated that fact.

Without further comment, Jess brought out his violin.

"Fiddlin's to m