"Oh, yer know what I mean," said Abner, throwing himself into a chair
and looking inquiringly at Strout. "What was goin' on this noon 'tween
you and that city feller?"
"Well, you see," continued Strout, "Mr. Sawyer and me have been at
swords' points the las' two months over some pussonal matters. Well, he
kinder wanted to fix up things, but he knew I wouldn't consent to let up
on him 'less he treated me square; so I gets a third interest in the
grocery store, the firm name is to be Strout & Maxwell, and I'm to be
postmaster; so, you see, I got the best end after all, jest as I meant
to from the fust. But, see here, Stiles, Mr. Sawyer and I have agreed to
keep our business and our pussonal matters strictly private in the
futer, and you mustn't drop a word of what I've told yer to any livin'
soul."
"I've carried a good many of yer secrets 'round with me," responded
Abner, "and never dropped one of 'em, as far as I know."
"Oh, yer all right, old man," said the Professor; "but, yer know, for
the last two months our game has been to keep talkin'; now it will pay
us best to keep our mouths shet.
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