William Wetherell dropped his pen with a start of surprise, as it was late for a visitor in Coniston. He glanced at Jethro, who did not move, and then he went to the door and shot back the great forged bolt of it, and stared out. On the edge of the porch stood a tallish man in a double-breasted frock coat.
"Mr. Worthington!" exclaimed the storekeeper.
Mr. Worthington coughed and pulled at one of his mutton-chop whiskers, and seemed about to step off the porch again. It was, indeed, the first citizen and reformer of Brampton. No wonder William Wetherell was mystified.
"Can I do anything for you?" he asked. "Have you missed your way?"
Wetherell thought he heard him muttering, "No, no," and then he was startled by another voice in his ear. It was Jethro who was standing beside him.
"G-guess he hain't missed his way a great deal. Er—come in—come in."
Mr. Worthington took a couple of steps forward.
"I understood that you were to be alone," he remarked, addressing Jethro with an attempted severity of manner.
"Didn't say so—d-didn't say so, did I?" answered Jethro.
"Very well," said Mr. Worthington, "any other time will do for this little matter."