"Yes. But—our Cleena! Cleena Keegan! Well, there's no danger of her encouraging him. Between her own 'folks,' yourself, and the Joneses, I think she has all she can attend to without taking in a man to worry with."
The subject was idlest village gossip, but it served to divert Hallam's thoughts from his impending errand, and he arrived at the office of the mill in good spirits. Then he remembered a saying he had heard in the community:—
"All roads lead to the mill," and quoted it for Fayette's benefit.
"That's so. But, say, I hate that old Wingate that's got it now. He licked me when I worked for him. Licked me more 'n once, just because I fooled a little with his horses. I was bound out to him from the poor-farm, an' I run away. He treated me bad. I'm goin' to get even with him some day. You watch an' see."
"Well, here we are. Is this the office? Will you go in with me and help me find the superintendent? I've never been here, you know."
"Huckleberries! Ain't that queer? And Amy comes every day."
Fayette meant no reproach. His thoughts were never profound, but Hallam flushed and felt ashamed.
"That's true. The more disgrace to me. Well, cripple or not, that's the last time anybody shall ever say, truthfully, that my little sister has set me an example of courage and effort. Hurry up. Open the door."
A moment later both lads stood within the little room wherein so many big money transactions took place; and it is doubtful if any speculator coming there had felt greater anxiety over the outcome of his visit than these two whose "operations" were to be of such a modest limit.