Mr. Ricker removed his unseasonable headgear and moved nearer to the stove.
“I have heard of the late Mr. Sawyer and was sorry to hear of his early demise.” He looked at Abner, then at Mr. Strout.
“Your friend here has told me about his wonderful exploits—how he thrashed the town bully, and beat the singing-master at his own game.”
Bob Wood and Strout glared at Abner.
“But his experiences, which I have been told have appeared in print,” the stranger continued, “are trifling compared with the perils and adventures which have fallen to my lot. I could make your blood run cold.”
“Ef we open the front door, I guess the weather will do that,” said Hiram, and it was the general opinion, though not verbally expressed, that Hiram had got one on the stranger.
Mr. Emmanuel Howe, the clergyman's son, was noted for his extreme politeness. He had attended one term at a divinity school before he met Miss Dixie Schaffer. He arose from the nail-keg upon which he had been sitting, and motioned for the stranger to take his place.
As he accepted the mute invitation, Mr. Ricker turned to the company and said: “Gentlemen, shall I intrude upon your time if I relate just one of my adventures?”
“Oh, go ahead,” said Strout. “It's our rule to let a man talk until we get enough, and then—”
He raised his right foot, suddenly.