“Why?”
“We’ll be busted.”
“That’s too bad, young man, but we’re doing the best we can. We’ll fix you up as soon as we can, but you’ll have to wait your turn, just like the rest.”
“But we can’t wait. I jest can’t go back and tell Dad and Jack that I couldn’t git that lumber.... It hain’t so much on account of losin’ the money, but it ’ll be sich a setback to our becomin’ respectable.”
“Eh? What’s that? Respectable? What d’you mean?”
“Catty’s dead set on his father and him bein’ respectable,” says I. “Seems like he’s almost crazy on the subject.”
“What’s the idea, young man?” says Mr. Heminway, turning to Catty, and Catty set in to tell how he and his father came to our town just tramps, and how Mrs. Gage had said he was a vagabond and how he had made up his mind to settle there and show folks he was as good as anybody and make them admit it; and how he was leaning manners and teaching them to his father; and how folks tried to chase them out of town; and all about the business and Jim Bockers and the contract and everything except Mr. Kinderhook. Catty never mentioned Kinderhook once.
“I never heard the like,” says Mr. Heminway, looking kind of queer at Catty; “and do you think you can do what you’ve set out to do?”
“I figger it’s ’most done,” says Catty. “All we got to do is to make money now to look respectable. Dad’s learnin’ to work ag’in, and his manners is improvin’. You ought to ketch sight of him in his Sunday clothes. Why, I got him lookin’ respectabler ’n a judge or a deacon.”
“You seem to have a pretty good head for business, Atkins,” says Mr. Heminway. “There’s always a way to get what you want in business, and you want this lumber bad. I can’t give it to you, but maybe you can find a way to get it—to make me give it to you. I wish I could help you, but I try to do business the same way you are trying to do it—by giving everybody a square deal. It wouldn’t be right for me to show you favors, nor to put you ahead of somebody whose order came in first, would it?”