Babbitt's bristling chin beard quivered with inarticulate hatred.
Winslow sighed resignedly.

"Well," he asked, "you don't mind the other--er--critter in the
menagerie sittin', do you? Now--now--now, just a minute," he
pleaded, as his two companions showed symptoms of speaking
simultaneously. "Just a minute; let me say a word. Phineas, I
judge the only reason you have for objectin' to the captain's bein'
on the Exemption Board is on account of your son, ain't it? It's
just on Leander's account?"

But before the furious Mr. Babbitt could answer there came another
interruption. The bell attached to the door of the outer shop rang
once more. Jed, who had accepted his own invitation to sit, rose
again with a groan.

"Now I wonder who THAT is?" he drawled, in mild surprise.

Captain Hunniwell's frayed patience, never noted for long
endurance, snapped again. "Gracious king! go and find out," he
roared. "Whoever 'tis 'll die of old age before you get there."

The slow smile drifted over Mr. Winslow's face. "Probably if I
wait and give 'em a chance they'll come in here and have apoplexy
instead," he said. "That seems to be the fashionable disease this
afternoon. They won't stay out there and be lonesome; they'll come
in here where it's private and there's a crowd. Eh? Yes, here
they come."

But the newest visitor did not come, like the others, uninvited