spending money that didn't belong to him."

"I should think it was serious! If he'd been some poor little clerk in
the bank, instead of Mr. Samuel Wright's only son, he would have found
it was serious! Willy, what do you make of him?"

"He is queer," William said; "queer as Dick's hatband; but that's all.
Sam wouldn't do a mean thing, or a dirty thing, any more than a girl
would."

"And now he thinks he's in love with this Richie woman," Martha went
on--but William made his escape. He had to go and hitch up, he said.

Before he took Jinny out of her stall he went into the harness-room
and hunted about on a shelf until, behind a rusty currycomb and two
empty oil-bottles, he found a small mirror. It was misty and flecked
with clear spots where the quicksilver had dropped away, but when he
propped it against the cobwebbed window he could see himself fairly
well. Staring into its dim depths he retied his necktie; then he
backed the buggy out of the carriage-house. But after he had put his
mare between the shafts he hesitated.... The buggy was very shabby; it
sagged badly on the right side and there was a rent in the faded
cushion. The doctor looked at his watch.... Then, hurriedly, led Jinny
back to her stall, got a bucket of water and a sponge, and washed off
the dashboard and wheels. After that he fumbled along a dusty beam to
find a bottle of oil with which he touched up the harness. But when
all was done he shook his head. The buggy was hopeless. Nevertheless,
when he climbed in and slapped Jinny's flank with the newly oiled rein
he was careful to sit in the middle of the seat to make the springs
truer, and he avoided the mud-puddles on the road up to the Stuffed