open and the newcomer entered. He was a big man, gray-mustached,
with hair a grizzled red, and with blue eyes set in a florid face.
The hand which had opened the door looked big and powerful enough
to have knocked a hole in it, if such a procedure had been
necessary. And its owner looked quite capable of doing it, if he
deemed it necessary, in fact he looked as if he would rather have
enjoyed it. He swept into the room like a northwest breeze, and
two bundles of wooden strips, cut to the size of mill arms,
clattered to the floor as he did so.

"Hello, Jed!" he hailed, in a voice which measured up to the rest
of him. Then, noticing Mr. Bearse for the first time, he added:
"Hello, Gabe, what are you doin' here?"

Gabriel hastened to explain. His habitual desire to please and
humor each person he met--each person of consequence, that is; very
poor people or village eccentrics like Jed Winslow did not much
matter, of course--was in this case augmented by a particular
desire to please Captain Sam Hunniwell. Captain Sam, being one of
Orham's most influential men, was not, in Mr. Bearse's estimation,
at all the sort of person whom it was advisable to displease. He
might--and did--talk disparagingly of him behind his back, as he
did behind the back of every one else, but he smiled humbly and
spoke softly in his presence. The consciousness of having just
been talking of him, however, of having visited that shop for the
express purpose of talking about him, made the explaining process a
trifle embarrassing.

"Oh, howd'ye do, howd'ye do, Cap'n Hunniwell?" stammered Gabriel.
"Nice day, ain't it, sir? Yes, sir, 'tis a nice day. I was just--