“Oh, very well,” said the peddler, his voice lifting plainly, and his manner that of a man rebuffed. “If you have no need of it, why, then, all’s said and done.”
So saying he stuffed the watch into his pocket, rebuttoned the flap, sat down upon his end of the settle once more and began staring fixedly into the fire.
“I suppose,” spoke Lieutenant Camp, after a few moments of silence, “that you pick up many quaint and curious things in your journeyings here and there.”
The peddler gave him no very tolerant look and replied, shortly:
“Ay, that I do, sir.” Then with a bending of his brows and a shake of his bald head, he continued: “But I always make shift to mind my own business, young sir.”
The lieutenant sat up stiff upon the settle. “Do you mean to infer that I do not, my man?” demanded he.
The peddler turned squarely upon him and looked him in the face.
“I was not aware that I called you by name, sir,” said he pointedly.
“Not having a name to call me by,” said the lieutenant, “it would be a difficult thing to do. But, perhaps, if I gave you one, you’d be more civil.”
He stooped and spoke a word or two in the ear of the peddler; and instantly the latter’s dogged look vanished.