Mr. Cheeseman looked after him as he drove slowly away, his head bent in thought, a very different Calvin Parks from the one who had burst in so joyously an hour before with his New Year greeting.
"He's a good feller!" said the old gentleman. "I never see a better feller than that. I hope he'll come through all right; but there's just one thing troubles me, and yet I couldn't feel to say it to him. Where did Phrony Marlin get that money?
CHAPTER XVII
NIGHT
The brown horse had a dull day of it. No cheery remarks, no snatches of song, no cracking of the whip about his responsive ears. He whinnied remonstrance and inquiry now and then, but received no reply. Calvin Parks drove moodily along, his shoulders up to his ears, his head sunk between them, his eyes staring straight ahead. He could hardly even bring his mind to trade, and Mrs. Weazel got five cents off the price of her marshmallows, and was straightway consumed with anguish because she had not tried for ten.
"What's wrong with you, Cal?" asked Si Slocum at the Corners. "Didn't the Pie-fillene set good?"
"That's all right!" said Calvin briefly.
"I was clearin' out a lot of old samples," Si went on, "and Phrony come meechin' and beseechin', the way she does, and I give her the whole bunch. I mistrusted she'd try 'em on you. Come in, won't ye?"
"I'm in a hurry!" replied Calvin. "Here's the goods you ordered; all right, be they?"