activity, but Charnock's efforts were spasmodic and often slack.

In the meantime, trade was brisk at the settlement, and Keller found his
business made demands on him that he could hardly meet. It was rapidly
growing, and his strength got less. Indeed, he would have sold out but
for Sadie. The girl was clever and had tone; he wanted her to find life
smooth and taste pleasure her mother had not enjoyed. The latter had
helped him in a hard fight when dollars were very scarce, and died, worn
out, just before the tide turned. Since then he had schemed and sweated
to make her child's future safe.

Now he thought he had done so, but it had been a struggle, and he knew
he had held on too long. Keeping store in a wheat-growing district was
not a simple matter of selling groceries; one was in reality a banker.
Bills were not often paid until the crop was harvested, farmers began
without much money, and one must know whom to trust. Indeed, one often
financed a hustler who had no capital, and kept an honest man who had
lost a crop on his feet; but the risk was great, and one felt the strain
when there was rust and autumn frost.

One bright afternoon Keller stood on the sidewalk in front of the store.
He was not old, but his hair was gray and his face was pinched. It
was rather a hard face, for Keller's glance was keen and his lips were
generally firmly set. Yet he was liked by his customers. Now he was
breathing hard because he had helped a farmer to put a heavy bag of
flour in his wagon. The farmer drove away and a cloud of dust the team
stirred up blew down the street. The fronts of the wooden houses were
cracking in the hot sun; there was not a tree to relieve the bare
ugliness of the place, and the glare was dazzling. Keller at first
imagined this was why he could not see the wagon well, but after a few