“Sit it, you mean,” said young Bartlett, laughing with the others at his own joke.
“But,” said the blacksmith severely, “we’re out of shoes, and you’ll have to wait till we turn some, that is, if you don’t want the old ones reset. Are they good enough?”
“I guess so, if you can find ‘em; but they’re out in the fields. Didn’t think I’d bring the horses in while they held on, did you?” Then, suddenly remembering his duties, he said by, way of general introduction: “Gentlemen, this is my friend Mr. Yates from New York.”
The name seemed to fall like a wet blanket on the high spirits of the crowd. They had imagined from the cut of his clothes that he was a storekeeper from some village around, or an auctioneer from a distance, these two occupations being the highest social position to which a man might attain. They were prepared to hear that he was from Welland, or perhaps St. Catherines; but New York! that was a crusher. Macdonald, however, was not a man to be put down in his own shop and before his own admirers. He was not going to let his prestige slip from him merely because a man from New York had happened along. He could not claim to know the city, for the stranger would quickly detect the imposture and probably expose him; but the slightly superior air which Yates wore irritated him, while it abashed the others. Even Sandy was silent.
“I’ve met some people from New York down East,” he said in an offhand manner, as if, after all, a man might meet a New Yorker and still not sink into the ground.
“Really?” said Yates. “I hope you liked them.”
“Oh, so-so,” replied the blacksmith airily. “There’s good and bad among them, like the rest of us.”
“Ah, you noticed that,” said Yates. “Well, I’ve often thought the same myself. It’s a safe remark to make; there is generally no disputing it.”
The condescending air of the New Yorker was maddening, and Macdonald realized that he was losing ground. The quiet insolence of Yates’ tone was so exasperating to the blacksmith that he felt any language at his disposal inadequate to cope with it. The time for the practical joke had arrived. The conceit of this man must be taken down. He would try Sandy’s method, and, if that failed, it would at least draw attention from himself to his helper.
“Being as you’re from New York, maybe you can decide a little bet Sandy here wants to have with somebody.”