“Who's that you got aboard?” queried a third.
Captain Shadrach did not answer. Mr. Hamilton leaned forward. “Where's Annabel?” he asked.
“She's inside,” replied the first questioner. “Want to see her? Hi, Jabe,” turning his head and addressing one of the group nearest the door, “tell Annabel, Zoeth and Shad's come.”
“Jabe,” who was propped against a post, languidly pushed himself away from it, opened the door behind him and shouted: “Annabel, come out here!” Then he slouched back and leaned against the post again.
The door opened and a stout, red-faced young woman appeared. She looked much more like an Eliza than an Annabel. She had a newspaper in her hand.
“Hey?” she drawled. “Who was that hollerin'? Was it you, Jabez Hedges?”
Jabez did not take the trouble to answer. Instead he took a hand from his trousers pocket and waved it toward the buggy. Annabel looked; then she came down the steps.
“Hello!” she said. “I see you got back all right.”
Zoeth nodded. “How'd you get along in the store?” he asked, anxiously. “How's business?”
“Wasn't none to speak of,” replied Annabel carelessly. “Sold a couple of spools of cotton and—and some salt pork and sugar. Ezra Howland bought the pork. He wasn't satisfied; said there wasn't enough lean in it to suit him, but I let him have it a cent cheaper, so he took it.”