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"Back in Vermont we don't like the whisky business."
"You're right, it breeds deviltry and disorder. In my youth I was
surrounded by whisky. Everybody drank it. A bottle or a jug of liquor was
thought to be as legitimate a piece of merchandise as a pound of tea or a
yard of calico. That's the way I've always thought of it. But lately I've
begun to get the Yankee notion about whisky. When it gets into bad
company it can raise the devil."
Soon after nine o'clock Abe drew a mattress filled with corn husks from
under the counter, cleared away the bolts of cloth and laid it where they
had been and covered it with a blanket.
"This is my bed," said he. "I'll be up at five in the morning. Then I'll
be making tea here by the fireplace to wash down some jerked meat and a
hunk o' bread. At six or a little after I'll be ready to go with you
again. Jack Kelso is going to look after the store to-morrow."
He began to laugh.
"Ye know when I went out of the tavern that little vixen stood peekin'
into the window--Bim, Jack's girl," said Abe.


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