Britt came to the front door and mildly entreated the Prophet to walk in.  “I’ll be glad to listen to you.  Isn’t it a good idea to tell me, man to man, in my office what’s wrong with me, instead of standing out there in the snow, telling the neighborhood?”

The Prophet went in, having first slapped his hand on his breast, urging action, “’Go in, speak unto Pharaoh, king of Egypt, that he let the children of Israel go out of his hand.’”

He trudged forth, after a time, and walked along slowly toward Usial’s house, clawing his hand above his ear with the air of a man trying to solve a perplexing puzzle.

CHAPTER XI

SACKS AND MOUTHS—­ALL SEALED

Every now and then the fad of a new trick puzzle—­a few bits of twisted wire, or a stick and a string—­will as effectually occupy the time of an entire community as a cowbell will take up the undivided attention of a cur, if the bell is hitched to the cur’s tail.

The folks of Egypt had a couple of brain-twisters to solve.

What had happened to Tasper Britt?

How did it happen that Cashier Vaniman was holding on to his job?

His townsfolk knew Britt’s character pretty well, and they had much food for speculation in his case.

There were some who ventured the suggestion that Hittie’s remonstrating spirit had come to him in the night watches.  Other guesses ran all the way down the scale of probability to the prosaic belief that Britt had decided that it was not profitable to go on making a fool of himself.  It was agreed that Britt had a good eye for profit in every line of action; and it was conceded, even by those who did not believe all that was said about spiritist influences in these modern days, that if Hittie really had managed to get at him it was likely that her caustic communications would knock some of the folly out of him.

Egypt did not know Vaniman, the outlander, very well.  Gossip about his reasons for remaining were mostly all guess-so; the folks got absolutely nothing from him on the subject.  He did not discuss the matter even with Squire Hexter and Xoa.  Frank and Vona had definitely adopted the policy of waiting, and he resolved to take no chances on having that policy prejudiced by anybody carrying random stories to Britt, reports that the cashier had said this or the other.

Vaniman took occasion to reassure Mr. Britt on that point, and the latter had displayed much gratitude.  “If you don’t hurt me, Frank, I won’t hurt you!” Then the usurer’s eyes hardened.  “Of course I can’t expect you to forget that I threatened to blacken your name in banking circles.  But in our new understanding I guess we can afford to call it a stand-off.”

“If I were staying here simply to wheedle you into passing me on with a high testimonial, I’d be playing a selfish game, and that isn’t my attitude, sir.  I was anxious to get this job.  I felt that I had a right to stand for myself, on my own honesty.  But I shall tell the whole story the next time I apply for a position.  I’m getting to understand big financiers better,” he added, with bitterness.