everything's settled. You've got the fish, haven't you? Sartin'.
Yes, and I've been paid for it, haven't I?"

The child stared at him.

"But--but--" she began.

"Now--now don't let's argue about it," pleaded Jed, plaintively.
"Argum always gives me the--er--epizootic or somethin'. You saw me
have the money right in my hand. It's all settled; think it over
and see if it ain't. You've got the fish and I've HAD the fourteen
cents. Now run right along home and don't get lost. Good-night."

He led her gently to the door and closed it behind her. Then,
smiling and shaking his head, he returned to the inner shop, where
he lit the lamps and sat down for another bit of painting before
supper. But that bit was destined not to be done that night. He
had scarcely picked up his brush before the doorbell rang once
more. Returning to the outer room, he found his recent visitor,
the swordfish under one arm and the doll under the other, standing
in the aisle between the stacked mills and vanes and looking, so it
seemed to him, considerably perturbed.

"Well, well!" he exclaimed. "Back again so soon? What's the
matter; forget somethin', did you?"

Miss Armstrong shook her head.

"No-o," she said. "But--but--"