But now his real trouble and bewilderment began. A carload of new
furniture and "fixin's" was sidetracked at the junction, and McNutt was
ordered to get it unloaded and carted to the farm without delay. There
were four hay-rack loads of the "truck," altogether, and when it was all
dumped into the big empty barn at the Wegg farm the poor agent had no
idea what to do with it.

"See here," said Nick Thorne, who had done the hauling, "you've got to
let a woman inter this deal, Peggy."

"That's what my wife says, gum-twist her."

"Keep yer ol' woman out'n it. She'd spile a rotten apple."

"Who then, Nick?"

"Why, school-teacher's the right one, I guess. They've got a vacation
now, an' likely she'll come over here an' put things to rights. Peggy,
that air new furniture's the rambunctionest stuff thet ever come inter
these parts, an' it'll make the ol' house bloom like a rose in Spring.
But folks like us hain't got no call to tech it. You fetch
school-teacher."

Peggy sighed. He was keeping track of his time and charging John Merrick
at the rate of two dollars a day, being firmly resolved to "make hay
while the sun was shining" and absorb as much of the money placed in his
hands as possible. To let "school-teacher" into this deal and be obliged
to pay her wages was an undesirable thing to do; yet he reflected that
it might be wise to adopt Nick Thorne's suggestion.