"There is a firm of brokers by that name on Sixth Street. Why?" she demanded suspiciously, for when Peace asked such a question, it usually meant mischief brewing.
"Oh, I just wanted to know if there were really people called that or if Mr. Hardman was only teasing. He told me when I killed the hens that I better go there and borrow money to buy new ones with."
"He was just tormenting you," the woman replied, severely. "I hope you weren't thinking of doing such a thing?"
"Oh, no!" Peace exclaimed, the hopeful light in her eyes fading quickly. "Haven't I already bought eight good hens of O'Hara with my melon money? They lay better than our others do, too. That makes twenty-eight in all now. But I don't see why Mr. Hardman told me Swift & Smart would give me the money."
"He was playing smart himself, I guess. That firm is one of the biggest of its kind in the city. They buy mortgages and such things; they haven't time to spend on little loans."
"Oh," said Peace, but the glad light came back to the somber brown eyes once more, and she bounced happily up and down on the leather cushion. "That name seemed such a funny one to me, I couldn't forget it. Swift & Smart—I wonder if it fits?"
"If it fits?" echoed her companion.
"Yes. S'posing Mr. Swift was slower'n molasses in January and Mr. Smart was stupid as a stump, they would be as big misfits as I am, wouldn't they? Now if grandpa could just have known the kind of a girl I was going to be, I bet he never would have named me Peace. Faith says it would have been more 'propriate if he had called me Pieces. I was just thinking what if those breakers were the same way."
"Brokers, my dear, not breakers. Well, I can't say how well the names fit, for I don't know them except by hearsay; but I judge they must be pretty smart whether they are slow or swift."
Peace giggled gleefully as if she appreciated the pun, and said musingly, "I'd like to see for myself how well they fitted. The names sound so funny. Do you go near their store today?"