"
"No, sir," I said, "we can't."
"All he needs, Davy, is cheering up. It's a cold world sometimes to the
old."
I suppose the Scotch Preacher was saying the same thing to all the other
men of the company.
When we were preparing to go, Dr. McAlway turned to Carlstrom and said:
"How is it, Carlstrom, that you have come to hold such a place in this
community? How is it that you have got ahead so rapidly?"
The old man leaned forward, beaming through his spectacles, and said
eagerly:
"It ist America; it ist America."
"No, Carlstrom, no--it is not all America. It is Carlstrom, too. You
work, Carlstrom, and you save."
Every day since Wednesday there has been a steady pressure on Carlstrom;
not so much said in words, but people stopping in at the shop and
passing a good word. But up to Monday morning the gunsmith went forward
steadily with his preparations to leave. On Sunday I saw the Scotch
Preacher and found him perplexed as to what to do. I don't know yet
positively, that he had a hand in it, though I suspect it, but on Monday
afternoon Charles Baxter went by my house on his way to town with a
broken saw in his buggy. Such is the perversity of rival artists that I
don't think Charles Baxter had ever been to Carlstrom with any work.
Pages:
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119