CHAPTER XIX.
Mrs.Cullom was sitting at one corner of the fire, and David drew a chair opposite to her.
"Feelin' all right now?
whisky hain't made ye liable to no disorderly conduct, has it ?" he asked with a laugh.
"Yes, thank you," was the reply, "the warm things are real comfortin', 'n' I guess I hain't had licker enough to make me want to throw things.
You got a kind streak in ye, Dave Harum, if you did send me this here note--but I s'pose ye know your own bus'nis," she added with a sigh of resignation.

"I ben fearin' fer a good while 't I couldn't hold on t' that prop'ty, an' I don't know but what you might's well git it as 'Zeke Swinney, though I ben hopin' 'gainst hope that Charley 'd be able to do more 'n he has." "Let's see the note," said David curtly.

"H'm, humph, 'regret to say that I have been instructed by Mr.Harum'-- wa'al, h'm'm, cal'lated to clear his own skirts anyway--h'm'm--'must be closed up without further delay' (John's eye caught the little white stocking which still lay on his desk)--wa'al, yes, that's about what I told Mr.Lenox to say fur's the bus'nis part's concerned--I might 'a' done my own regrettin' if I'd wrote the note myself." (John said something to himself.) "'T ain't the pleasantest thing in the world fer ye, I allow, but then you see, bus'nis is bus'nis." John heard David clear his throat, and there was a hiss in the open fire.

Mrs.Cullom was silent, and David resumed: "You see, Mis' Cullom, it's like this.

I ben thinkin' of this matter fer a good while.