Mr. Grandoken, alone in his shop, worked with contented vigor. The days, those beautiful summer days, were bringing untold joy to him. Peggy seemed in brighter spirits, and Jinnie’s radiant face made Lafe rejoice. Little Bobbie’s stars were always shining nowadays, so what more could the dear man want? As he sat tip-tapping, he took himself in fancy to that day ahead when Heaven would unfold another blessing for Peg—for him. He put down 235 his hammer and glanced out of the window, and suddenly Maudlin Bates loomed up, with all his hulking swagger obliterating the shoemaker’s mental bliss.
Lafe nodded as Maudlin stepped into the shop. There was an unusually aggressive expression upon the young wood gatherer’s face, and Mr. Grandoken refrained from asking him to sit down. Instead he questioned:
“Brought some cobblin’?”
“No,” said Bates. “Wanted to talk to you; that’s all.”
“Hurry up, then, ’cause I’m busy.”
“Where’s Jinnie?” queried Maudlin.
Swift anger changed the cobbler’s face.
“What’s that to you?” he demanded. “And you needn’t be drippin’ tobacco juice around my shop.”
“Won’t hurt it, I guess,” answered Maudlin insolently, sitting down heavily.
With every passing minute, Lafe was growing more and more enraged.