"Just come from his house, and he hain't done a lick of work sence noon
time. Jest sets in a corner--won't talk, won't eat--jest sets thar."

Lem sat down on the counter and laughed until he was forced to brush the
tears from his cheeks at the idea of Chester Perkins being Jethro's
candidate. Where was reform now? If Chester were elected, it would be in
the eyes of the world as Jethro's man. No wonder he sat in a corner and
refused to eat.

"Guess you'll ketch it next, Will, for goin' over to Harwich with Lem,"
Joe remarked playfully to the storekeeper, as he departed.

These various occurrences certainly did not tend to allay the uneasiness
of Mr. Wetherell. The next afternoon, at a time when a slack trade was
slackest, he had taken his chair out under the apple tree and was sitting
with that same volume of Byron in his lap--but he was not reading. The
humorous aspects of the doings of Mr. Bass did not particularly appeal to
him now; and he was, in truth, beginning to hate this man whom the fates
had so persistently intruded into his life. William Wetherell was not, it
may have been gathered, what may be called vindictive. He was a
sensitive, conscientious person whose life should have been in the vale;
and yet at that moment he had a fierce desire to confront Jethro Bass
and--and destroy him. Yes, he felt equal to that.

Shocks are not very beneficial to sensitive natures. William Wetherell
looked up, and there was Jethro Bass on the doorstep.

"G-great resource--readin'--great resource," he remarked.

In this manner Jethro snuffed out utterly that passion to destroy, and