across the road from him, "would have spared me close to a dozen
blisters."

Conversation had expired on Scattergood's arrival, and the group on the
porch converted itself into an audience. It was an audience that got its
money's worth. Not for an instant did the attention of a single member
of it stray away from this Godsend come to furnish them with their first
real topic of conversation since Crazy French stole a box of Paris
green, mistaking it for a new sort of pancake flour.

Scattergood arose ponderously and limped out into the middle of the
dusty road. From this vantage point he slowly and conscientiously
studied the village.

"Uh-huh!" he said. "'Twouldn't pay to do all that walkin' just for a
visit. Calc'late I'll have to settle."

He walked directly back to the absorbed group of leading citizens, his
shoes dangling, one in each hand, and addressed them genially.

"Your town," said he, "is growin'. Its population jest increased by me."

"Sizable growth," said Old Man Penny, dryly, letting his eye rove over
Scattergood's bulk.

"My line," said Scattergood, "is anythin' needful. Outside of a
railroad, what you figger you need most?"

Nobody answered.