By September Alvin was settled in his store in what had once been a little shoemaker's shop next the post-office. Like the good housewife she was, Essie made the place all clean and tidy and banished all odor of leather. Then the little shop was painted and Alvin's glass cases for ties and collars and the low chairs for the trying on of shoes were put in place. Millerstown was curious, and went to see and remained to buy, and upon them waited Alvin in immaculate if sober clothes. Sometimes, alas! when there was no danger of Essie's coming into the shop, he wore a red necktie!
Alvin had paid his debt to Katy, and in the paying had achieved a moral victory worthy of a braver man. When the little store was planned and the fittings all but bought, he had gone to David Hartman and had confessed his debt.
"She helped me, she was the only one who ever helped me. She thought perhaps something could be made of me. And I could never pay her back."
"She helped you," repeated David. "You could never pay her back."
"That was it," explained Alvin. "When she could not go to school and had all this money, she thought somebody should use it and she helped me."
David blinked rapidly. Then he went to the safe and counted a roll of money into Alvin's hand.
"Go pay your debts, Alvin. The store will be all right."
Alvin started briskly down the street, but his step grew slower and slower. He was, to tell the truth, desperately afraid of Katy Gaumer. Instead of going on to Grandfather Gaumer's he stopped in at the squire's, awful though the squire always seemed.
"Here is Katy's money," said he.
The squire put out a prompt hand and took the money, counted it, and put the roll into his pocket. It was just as well for the development of Alvin's soul that it had not been offered to Katy, who might not have accepted it.