“He went on very important business, Frank. I cannot explain to you exactly what it was. He was to see Mr. Garrison, the man he used to buy flour from.”
“Jabez Garrison?”
“Yes.”
“I never liked that man, mother; did you?”
“I really can’t say, Frank—I never had much to do with him.”
“I saw him at the store several times—doing business with father. He somehow put me in mind of a snake.”
“Oh, Frank!” burst in Ruth.
“A man don’t look like a snake,” was little Georgie’s sober comment.
“That is not a very complimentary thing to say, Frank,” said Mrs. Hardy, somewhat severely.
“I can’t help it, mother. He has such an oily, smooth manner about him.”