Ordinarily I would not have given the entire matter any attention; but, as I have said, Mr. Norton’s way of doing things did not suit me, and I was anxious to find out something about him, and what I was to expect from him in the future.
I waited for several minutes after the men had gone, and then making rather more noise than was necessary, walked up to the mill.
Mr. Norton met me at the door. “Back at last, I see,” he said. “Got that tobacco?”
“Yes, sir;” and I handed it over.
“Good. I’m nearly dead for a smoke. Do you use the weed?”
“No, sir.”
“That’s right. Never start. It’s costly, and does a fellow no good.”
I took the groceries I had brought, and put them in the pantry. Mr. Norton filled his pipe, and began to puff away vigorously.
“Always have to smoke when I’m thinking,” he remarked as he blew a cloud of smoke to the ceiling.