“But if the sheriff knows where Gansett Jim was at the time of the killing, he can’t suppose me guilty. I wonder if he really does believe me guilty?”
“If he does, he doesn’t care. His concern is quite apart from your guilt.”
“It’s too much for me,” confessed the artist.
“And for me. That is why I am going back to the village.”
“But I thought you were frightened.”
“If I stayed away from everything that alarms me,” said Kent, “I’d never have a tooth filled or speak to a woman under seventy. I’m a timid soul, Sedgwick; but I don’t think I shall be in any danger in Annalaka so long as I’m alone. Here we are. Out with you! I’ll be back by evening.”
[CHAPTER VII—SIMON P. GROOT DOES BUSINESS]
To his surprise, Kent, turning into the village Square, found the crowd still lingering. A new focus of interest had drawn it to a spot opposite Sterrett’s store, where a wagon, decorated in the most advanced style of circus art, shone brilliant in yellow and green. Bright red letters across the front presented to public admiration the legend:
SIMON P. GROOT
SIMON PURE GOODS
A stout projection rested on one of the rear wheels. Here stood the proprietor of the vehicle, while behind him in a window were displayed his wares. It was evident that Simon P. Groot followed the romantic career of an itinerant hawker, dealing in that wide range of commodities roughly comprised in the quaint term, “Yankee notions.” Before the merchandizing voice came to the new arrival’s ears as anything more than a confused jumble, Kent was struck with the expansive splendor of the man’s gestures, the dignity of his robust figure, and the beauty of a broad whitening beard that spread sidewise like the ripples from a boat’s stem. Two blemishes unhappily marred the majesty of Simon P. Groot’s presence; a pair of pin-head eyes, mutually attracted to each other, and a mean and stringent little voice. Freed of these drawbacks, his oratory might well, one could not but feel, have rolled in any of our legislative chambers more superbly and just as ineffectually as much of the other oratory therein practised. That the Annalakans were truly spellbound by it was obvious. Indeed, Kent was at a loss to understand the depth of their absorption until he had come within the scope of the high-piping words.