He knew the people a great deal
better than they knew him, or even themselves.
Miss Butterworth called at the house of the Rev. Solomon Snow, who,
immediately upon her entrance, took his seat in his arm-chair, and
adjusted his bridge. The little woman was so combative and incisive that
this always seemed a necessary precaution on the part of that gentleman.
"I want to see it!" said Miss Butterworth, without the slightest
indication of the object of her curiosity.
Mrs. Snow rose without hesitation, and, going to a trunk In her bedroom,
brought out her precious certificate of stock, and placed it in the
hands of the tailoress.
It certainly was a certificate of stock, to the amount of five shares,
in the Continental Petroleum Company, and Mr. Belcher's name was not
among the signatures of the officers.
"Well, that beats me!" exclaimed Miss Butterworth. "What do you suppose
the old snake wants now?"
"That's just what I say--just what I say," responded Mrs. Snow.
Goodness knows, if it's worth anything, we need it; but what _does_ he
want?"
"You'll find out some time. Take my word for it, he has a large axe to
grind."
"I think," said Mr. Snow judicially, "that it is quite possible that we
have been unjust to Mr.
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