"I don't care if I do. Snug place you've got here, Mr. Stanton."
"It's very plain and humble, but it's home, and I set by it," answered Job, who was busily engaged in tapping a shoe belonging to Eliphalet Nourza, a farm-laborer.
"I've come over to see you on a little business, Mr. Stanton," said the trader, affably.
"Jest so!" returned Uncle Job cheerfully, glancing over his spectacles at the trader's shoes to see if they looked much worn. "Want a pair of new shoes, I reckon?"
"I shall need a new pair soon," said Richmond, "but that isn't exactly what I meant."
It flashed across Job Stanton's mind that his visitor might be going to make him an offer for the old place, but he felt that he could not bear to part with it. He had lived there ever since he was married, thirty-five years ago, and there Jennie, the child of his old age, had been born.
But the trader's next sentence relieved him of this thought.
"The fact is, Uncle Job," proceeded the trader, adopting the title by which the shoemaker was generally known in Hampton, "I've got a favor to ask of you."
"'A favor to ask of me'?" repeated Job, looking up with some surprise at the well-dressed merchant, who seemed by his presence to honor the homely little shop.
"Yes," continued Richmond, with gravity; "I want you to indorse my note for five hundred dollars."