"Exactly."
"And patronize your mercantile establishments?"
Wilder laughed heartily.
"Why not?" he asked, laying a familiar and caressing hand on the other's shoulder. "You've got to live; an' poor Wilder's got to live."
"Poor Wilder can't help living, it seems to me," returned Jarrod, reflectively. "All these people are forced to trade with you, because there's no one else to patronize. You've established a monopoly here."
"It ain't that," said Wilder, becoming serious. "I don't want to monopolize anything, I'm sure. All I want is for people to come here and have a good time, and I can't trust anyone but myself to give 'em the right service and the right goods at the right prices. That's why I run everything myself—and lose money year after year a-doin' it."
"How can you lose money?"
"Why, on the folks that don't come here. If Tamawaca was double the size, I'd make double the money, wouldn't I? But it's a small place, you see, and no man's so energetic that he can get more than there is. So I work every season just to accommodate the people. When you've been here a little while you'll find that out. I'll cash your checks, lend you money, run your errands, settle your quarrels with your wife, reconcile your hired girl to sleeping in the basement and play blind-man's-buff with your children. That's Wilder—everybody's friend but his own, and too honest for his own good."
"Indeed, Mr. Wilder," said Jarrod, "I can see already that you are a remarkable man. What could Tamawaca do without you?"
"That's it! Why, dear boy, it would bust higher than Guilderoy's kite! That's why I take such good care of my health. But here we are at Lake View. Behold your future home!"