At the suggestion of an epidemic, the undertaker unconsciously rubbed his hands together in a businesslike manner.
"Can't tell yet," he replied. "I have no idea where Mr. Flint got it. This part of the country has been remarkably free from it this winter. Perhaps there won't be another case."
"I hope not," said Alick. "If Mr. Flint gets well, he'll have to take back some things that he's said, won't he?"
"And some other folks, too," added Peter.
"They're beginning to change their minds, already," Alick continued. "Half a dozen women told me this mornin' that all this fuss has been about somethin' that wa'n't half as bad as 'twas made out to be; and I told 'em that some folks did change their minds about as often as they opened their mouths."
"Did you say that to customers?" asked Peter, who always had an eye and ear to business; but at that moment, Mr. George, the school committeeman, came in, and temporarily saved the talkative clerk from the censure that he justly deserved.
"Mornin', Mr. George," said Alick, who was grateful for his timely appearance. Peter grunted some unintelligible greeting, while Mr. Blake bowed stiffly and turned away. Alick wanted to make Mr. George uncomfortable as soon as possible, and came to the point at once, by asking, "Hear the news?"
"News, what news?" queried Mr. George.
Alick was something of an actor, and to further perplex the school committeeman, dropped the measure of potatoes that he was holding, and stared at him in astonishment.
"You ain't heard!" he gasped, after a pause of appropriate length.