"Where does this Bob Wood spend most of his time?" asked Quincy.
"He loafs around Hill's grocery. When he ain't wokin' at his trade," said Hiram, "he does odd jobs for the Putnams in summer and cuts some wood for them in winter. You know Lindy Putnam, the gal you sang with at the concert?"
"Come along," said Quincy, "I feel pretty good this morning, we'll walk down to Hill's and see if that Mr. Wood has anything to say to me."
"Don't you think the best plan, Mr. Sawyer, would be to keep out of his way?" queried Hiram.
"Well, I can't tell that," said Quincy, "until I get better acquainted with him. After that he may think he'd better keep out of my way."
"Why, he's twice as big as you," cried Hiram, with a look of astonishment on his face.
"Come along, Hiram," said Quincy. "By the way, I haven't seen Miss Putnam since the concert. I think I will have to call on her."
Hiram laughed until his face was as red as a beet.
"By gum, that's good," he said, as he struck both legs with his hands.
"What's good?" asked Quincy. "Calling on Miss Putnam?"