In order to save his clothes while working, Checkers had brought to the store an old suit of a loud, checked pattern, and peculiar cut, which, nevertheless, was very becoming.

Towards evening the crowd began to increase, and Mr. Bradley, Arthur, two a.s.sistants and Checkers were all as busy as it was possible to be.

Those who were being waited on took none the less time in making their purchases, because there were others awaiting their turn. As a consequence, there was chafing and grumbling among the procrastinators, who were now in a hurry.

Uncle Jerry Halter, from the back woods--a character; shrewd, crabbed and as close as the next minute--was foremost among these, and at last he discovered our friend, Mr. Campbell, checked suit and all, returning from having washed his hands, after a not very successful attempt at filling a large brown jug with mola.s.ses.

The old man crowded through to the counter, leaning over it expectantly, but Checkers pa.s.sed him by unheeded, making his way toward a pretty girl.

"Hey there!" exclaimed Uncle Jerry indignantly--his voice was loud and very nasal. "Hey! 'Checkers,' or whatever your name is--I'm in a hurry, and I want to go."

Instantly there was a general laugh, and Checkers stopped and turned around.

"Well, go if you want to--you're not tied down," he retorted, and the laugh was on Uncle Jerry.

The old man colored to the roots of his hair. "You 're very fresh, young feller," he snarled.

"Yes; warranted to keep in any climate," said Checkers, smiling good-naturedly at him.

Arthur happened along just then, and soothed and waited upon Uncle Jerry, getting him peaceably out of the store.

In the morning at breakfast he related the incident to Mr. Kendall, who he knew would appreciate it.

"There is only one man about here meaner than old Jerry Halter," said Mr. Kendall, addressing Checkers, "and that is the father of Arthur's little friend, Miss Barlow. I once heard a friend of mine say of him that 'he wouldn't smile unless it was at another man's expense,' and I quite believe it. Arthur could tell you no end of humorous things about him, if he only would. But I suppose he does n't want to relate what may some day be family secrets. How is that, Arthur?"

Arthur looked annoyed, but did not reply to this bit of parental humor.

"As soon as Pert and Sadie come home you must take Mr. Campbell to call on them, Arthur," said Aunt Deb. "They are two lovely girls," she continued, turning to Checkers. "They 've been away to school; to a seminary up in Illinois. School's out now, of course, but they 're visiting somewhere--in St. Louis, I believe. They 're expected home this week, though; so you 'll have the pleasure of meeting them soon."

"Sisters?" asked Checkers.

"No; not sisters, but cousins, and almost inseparable. Sadie is n't as pretty as Pert, but she 's just as sweet as sweet can be, and a perfect treasure about a house. Are you fond of young ladies, Mr. Campbell?"

Checkers hardly knew what to say. "I 'm a great admirer of girls in general," he replied, after a moment's hesitation, "and they 've always struck me as being a mighty nice thing to kind of have around. But I 've had very little experience with them--that is, at least, in the last two years."

The truth was, that the friends with whom Checkers had gone to live in Chicago, after his mother's death, had been people of true worth and refinement. They were poor--a widowed mother and two daughters--and the liberal sum which Checkers insisted upon paying them for his monthly maintenance was to them a matter of grateful benefit. But they, in return, had exercised a restraining influence over him; had taught him to be courteous and gentlemanly, deferential to his elders, and respectful toward women, or, at least to maintain such an outward semblance, which answered all general purposes.

He had conceived a boyish adoration for the elder daughter, four years his senior, which had aided her materially in her influence over him for good. And it was only as he began to realize the utter hopelessness of his pa.s.sion, and at the same time found himself being supplanted by the bearded man who some months after married her and took her away, that he grew dissatisfied with working and found the excitement that he craved in racing and kindred gambling devices.

For several years he had lived this life, gradually growing hard and careless. But now that he found himself once more an inmate of a respectable family circle, he resumed his gentleness of manner, as it had been a half-forgotten role.

"I had been keeping the girls as a little surprise for him, Aunt Deb,"

said Arthur rather reproachfully. "To meet a girl who has been described to you is like listening to a joke which is told point first."

"I warrant he 'll find plenty to be interested in after he meets them, for all we may tell him," replied Aunt Deb.

"Yes," said Mr. Kendall, "there is something about each girl one meets a little different from any other. At least it was so when I was a boy. I never found any two quite alike."

"I never found one alike any two times," said Arthur, very feelingly; "but their uncertainty, I suppose, is their charm. Come, let's go out and loaf under the trees."

"Thank G.o.d, Sunday comes once a week," said Checkers. "I could stand two a week without straining myself."

"The girls are to be home Friday," said Arthur. "Friday night we 'll go down and call, if you'd like to."

"Tickled to death," said Checkers.

"Sadie will probably stay with Pert a while, as her father, Judge Martin, has gone to Texas, and won't be back for a couple of weeks.

Sadie's mother is dead, you know, and she and the old man are all alone. By the way, the Judge is rich, and Sadie is rich in her own right, too."

"That settles it, Sadie dear; you 're mine. A fortune-teller told me I 'd marry a rich girl."

"Better see her before you marry her, had n't you?" suggested Arthur.

"Why? She has n't got pen-paralysis, has she?"

"Pen-paralysis! No; what on earth is that?"

"Well, as long as she can sign a check, I guess we can manage to worry along. She may have faults; she probably has; but any girl who marries me won't be getting any the best of it. There' s a heap of consolation in that idea to a man about to commit matrimony."

"There are very few men I know of," said Arthur, "but what could 'lay to their soul that flattering unction.'"

"When you 're swapping 'sights unseen,'" said Checkers, "you do n't want too good a knife, or a horse yourself, or you 'll get the hooks on the trade."

"With all respect to you, my boy, you'd be far from 'getting the hooks,' as you call it, with Sadie Martin for a wife."

"Or you with Miss Barlow, I suppose."

Arthur's only response was a long drawn sigh, and he gazed into distance vacantly.

"Where did they get the name of 'Pert' for Miss Barlow, Arthur?" asked Checkers, suddenly.

"It's an abbreviation of a biblical name," said Arthur. "In a verse of one of Paul's Epistles to the Romans, he says, 'Salute also the beloved Persis.' When Pert was a child they gave her the nick-name, and it's stuck to her ever since."

Friday evening came at last, and Arthur and Checkers at an early hour drove down the mountain to call upon the young ladies.

The Barlows lived much nearer Clarksville than did the Kendalls, though upon a different road, and the young men had a long and round-about drive ere they reached their destination. As they entered the driveway two large dogs came bounding toward them, growling fiercely.

"Look out thar, boys, ye do n't git dog-bit!" shouted a voice. "Here Lion, here Tige; commir, ye varmints! What d 'ye mean? All right now; I 've got a-hold of 'em. That you, Arthur; how de do?"

"How do you do, Mr. Barlow?" responded Arthur.

"Hitch yer hosses ter that tree thar. I 'll send Joe out ter tend to 'em. Ye 'll find the girls round the side in a hammock. Here 's Pert a-comin' now."

"Good evening, Arthur, I 'm glad to see you," said a pleasant voice, and out of the shadow into the light of the yellow moon, which was just showing over the tops of the trees, the figure of a girl in white appeared, moving quickly and gracefully toward them.

Arthur stepped forward, and taking both of her hands in his, pressed them silently for a moment. "Pert," he said, "I want you to meet my friend, Mr. Campbell. Come here, old man. Miss Barlow, Mr. Campbell."

"I am very glad to meet you, Miss Barlow," said Checkers, with a graceful inclination.