The natives knew that their telephone,
which was built into a small booth at one end of the store--next the
post-office boxes--was part of a system that made it possible for one to
talk to those in far away cities. Often the country people would eye the
mysterious-looking instrument with awe and whisper to each other of its
mighty powers; but no one had ever before used it to telephone farther
than the Junction, and then only on rare occasions.
"It'll cost a heap o' money, Sam," said McNutt, uneasily, while Uncle
John was engaged in his remarkable conversation. They could see him in
the booth, through the little window.
"It will, Mac," was the solemn reply. "But the fool nabob may as well
spend it thet way as any other. It's mighty little of his capital er
surplus gits inter _my_ cash-drawer; 'n' thet's a fact."
Uncle John came from the booth, perspiring, but smiling and happy. He
walked across the street to see Joe Wegg, and found the youth seated in
a rocking-chair and looking quite convalescent. But he had company. In a
chair opposite sat a man neatly dressed, with a thin, intelligent face,
a stubby gray moustache, and shrewd eyes covered by horn-rimmed
spectacles.
"Good morning, Mr. Merrick," said Joe, cheerily; "this is Mr. Robert
West, one of the Millville merchants, who is an old friend of
our family.
Pages:
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160