"Howdy, gents?" said Scattergood. "Lookin' forward to bein' mutual grandads, I calc'late. Must be quite a feelin' to know you're in line to be a grandad."
"Huh!" grunted the deacon.
"Wumph!" coughed the elder.
"To think of you old coots dandlin' a baby on your knees—and buyin' it pep'mint candy and the Lord knows what, and walkin' down the street, each of you holdin' one of its hands and it walkin' betwixt you.... Dummed if I don't congratulate you."
The deacon looked at the elder and the elder looked at the deacon. They grinned, frostily at first, then more broadly.
"By hek! Eph," said the deacon.
"I'll be snummed!" said the elder, and they shook hands there and then.
"Step back here a minute. I got a mite of business. You won't want the nuisance of that stage line—with a grandson to fetch up. I'm kinder hankerin' to run the thing—not that it'll be much of an investment."
"What you offerin'?" asked the deacon.
Scattergood mentioned the sum. "Cash," he concluded.