"
"I didn't know you were a cook," interjected the grocer in surprise.
"I am not."
Mr. Killibrew looked at Peter, thought intensely for a few moments, and
came to an unescapable conclusion.
"You don't mean you've formed a cook's union here in Hooker's Bend,
Peter!" he cried, immensely amazed.
"Not at all. It's this," clarified Peter. "It may seem trivial, but it
illustrates the principle I'm trying to get at. Doesn't your cook carry
away cold food?"
It required perhaps four seconds for the merchant to stop his
speculations on what Peter had come for and adjust his mind to the
question.
"Why, yes, I suppose so," he agreed, very much at sea. "I--I never
caught up with her." He laughed a pleasant, puzzled laugh. "Of course
she doesn't come around and show me what she's making off with. Why?"
"Well, it's this. Wouldn't you prefer to give your cook a certain cash
payment instead of having her taking uncertain amounts of your
foodstuffs and wearing apparel?"
The merchant leaned forward in his chair.
"Did old Becky Davis send you to me with any such proposition as that,
Peter?"
"No, not at all.
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