"WELL, Philip," said Caleb, as the two men met on the piazza before sunrise Monday morning, "as Sunday's gone an' as there's no one here but you an' I, let's talk business a little bit. You mustn't think that my having taken a wife is going to make me an extra drag on you, an' right after a cyclone, too. My salary's enough to support two on the best that Claybanks can provide, an' if you're hard pushed, I can get along without drawin' anythin' for a year, for I've always kept a few hundred ahead against a time when I might break down entirely. I've told Mary how your wife's been in the store a great part of the time, an' there's nothin' that Mary'd like better than to do the same thing, if agreeable to you an' Mrs. Somerton. She's had practical trainin' at it, you know."
"She'll be worth her weight in gold to us," Philip replied, "for I foresee a busy future, about which I've much to say to you. The cyclone, instead of depressing the people, seems to have nerved them to new hope, for the town has received much free advertising; a lot of city newspapers sent men down here to describe the horrors of the affair, and as there were no actual horrors, and the men wanted something of which to make stories, that brother-in-law of yours, who is about as quick-witted a young chap as I ever met, filled their heads with the natural resources of Claybanks,—rich soil, drained swamps, plenty of valuable commercial timber, water-power available at short notice, whenever manufacturers might demand it, and, of course, the great deposit of brick clay from which the town got its name. I predict that there will be a lot of chances to make money outside of the store, so the more help we can have in the store, the better. By the way, I wonder what Truett has been up to this morning. I heard hammering awhile ago, in the direction of the warehouse. Ah! I remember—putting up the old sign over the door—uncle's old sign; it was carried about a mile from town by the cyclone and brought back by a man who thought, and very correctly, that I'd like to preserve it. Let's go around a moment and see how it looks, and remind ourselves of old times."
As they reached the front of the warehouse, Caleb lost the end of a partly uttered sentence, for over the old sign he saw a long board on which was painted, in large, black letters:—
SOMERTON & WRIGHT,
SUCCESSORS TO
"Who did that?" Caleb gasped.
"Truett," Philip replied. "He did it by special request, and I'm afraid he worked a little on Sunday, but Mrs. Somerton and I thought it a work of necessity. You see," Philip continued, in a matter-of-fact manner, and ignoring Caleb's astonished look, "by the terms of Uncle Jethro's will I was to provide for you for life and to your own satisfaction, and 'tis quite as easy to do it this way as on the salary basis. Besides, 'twill put those benevolent societies out of their misery, and put an end to their questions, every two or three months, as to the likelihood of the property reverting to them. You'll have me in your power as to terms, but I know you'll do nothing unfair. Let's have articles of co-partnership drawn up, on the basis of equal division of profits in the entire business—store, farms, houses, etc. I wrote you of the lump of money I got for my father's old mining stock. That, of course, is my own; but if the firm runs short of ready cash at any time I will lend to it at the legal rate of interest, so nothing but a very bad crop year can cripple us. Besides, I shall want to operate a little on the outside, so the store will need an additional manager who shall also be an owner—not a clerk, as you've insisted on being."
"But, Philip," said Caleb, who had collapsed on an empty box in front of the store, "I've never had any experience as a boss."
"Nor as a married man, either," Philip replied, "yet you've suddenly taken to the part quite naturally and creditably! The main facts are these: I'm satisfied that the past success of the store business has been due quite as much to you as to Uncle Jethro, and all the people agree with me. I couldn't possibly get along without you, nor feel honest if I continued to take more than half of the proceeds. Why not go tell the story to your wife, as an eye-opener? I think it might give her a good appetite for breakfast, and improve her opinion of Claybanks and the general outlook. It might cheer her farther to be told that her brother is the right man in the right place, and bids fair to become the busiest man in the county."
"I'll tell her, an' I don't doubt that 'twill set her up amazingly. But, Philip—" here Caleb looked embarrassed, "you haven't—don't you think you could make out to say somethin' to me about her?"