CHAPTER 3.

The Frenchman emerged from Mrs. Sykes' rooming-house onto Deer Lick's dusty Main Street to trod the half-furlong to its charade of a Postal Office. In the four months since he had shaken off the ague, this was his routine--after swallowing as much of Mrs. Sykes' early provender as his constitution would permit. Her grits and rashers of bacon were the staples of his "hot" cuisine in this lonely place. Frequent trips to Carthage and, on occasion, Springfield, kept insanity at bay. It was a clear Monday morning, though, and late-spring plantings sold warrants of full yield. Drenching rains were less typical and throat-choking heat wasn't yet a genuine threat. This called forth his general affection toward the John Gray family, especially Sarah and Mary, and the village idiot called a physician who had ministered to him. He mused upon the memory of his eviction after Mary's fluttering, girlish fascination with him raised false alarms in old Gray’s head.

He strode past Purcell's Dry Goods & Sundry, where the boardwalk parliament was already in session, entertaining old and new business.

"Weesh, if it ain't Lord All-Airs, alriddy," said Padraig O'Faolan, Speaker without benefit of election.

A shaving parted off Elijah Burch's shingle under his purposeless blade. "Wouldn't take on so ef he knew what folks thinks of him, hereabouts."

"What in Perdition kind of name is 'John Mercy A.'? Don't even sound Christian." Mose Duenweg spat, a regular form of punctuation.

Elijah nodded. "All folks' short name come in the middle. Man baptized that-a-way ain't to be trusted, I expect."

O'Faolan, again. "If he's baptized a'tall, that is. Nivver mind that he was borne in on a whirlwind, without so much as a hoof or a track. Wore old John Gray out with his fever and his mysteries, and what's he been up to since? Puttin' Doc Joplin off his kidneys with his grip full of potions, is what!"

"Look what he done with Mrs. Syke's oldest!" Mose said. "'Becca was in the childbirth, a-sufferin' from thet fever and Doc was tendin' her in the usual way, with the water-bath and all. John Mercy come in without a by-your-leave and put her straight into a trance! Hand o' the Creator all 'at saved her and the young 'un!"

Elijah said:

"And Seth Sherwood! Corn liquor ain't up to it when a tooth's gone bad and needs out – not according to the King of France!"

"Still and all," Mose recalled, "I ain't remembered ever seein' old Seth so quiet and pleased with his predicament, then or since."

"Wull, there was Caleb Preston, too, over to the mill. That thresher chewed his leg good and Doc was fixin' to take it off above the knee. Up come Mercy A. with his little jar of stump-water and stood against Doc! Tole him to close 'er up as best he could!" Elijah looked nearly thoughtful. "Still got the leg, though."

"'Tis the Divvil's work," said O'Faolan. This rill of recrimination nearly dry, he located another branch. "Nothin' is above him, not in Deer Lick. Forever cryin' about no tellygraph within a half-day's ride and aught but feed sacks to read – and him, not even first in the Queen's English! Brought the shame on Widow Bellowes at her pianoclaver recital, call'n out his misery because Joe-hann Bock and George Bees A. ain't amongst 'em!”

Mose expectorated. "There's 'nother o' them 'A.' fellers. Reckon they travel in packs?"

Mercier was abreast of the Lone Elm saloon when the proprietor burst out, attached to a human form at the scruff of the neck and slack of the trousers. He launched his cargo into the street like a bale of calico.

"No more drink nor morsel for ye here, Hugh Gregory – not until your arrearages is retired! Not then, neither, less'n you learn to hold your tongue about the Gray brothers and other good folk!"

Hugh labored to a knee, towsled, unshaved and freshly gritted. "Hah! A cold, old flint-heart and a common burglar at property," he slurred. "And Matthew Hurley, the freshly-polished apple of greedy John Gray's eye! A pox on 'em! O, my Mary –" He sagged and began weeping.

Mercier braced Hugh's elbow and, winching him to his feet, hove to, and towed him back toward Mrs. Sykes'. "Ah, mon ami, you must take yourself in hand if you are to win your Marie's amour."

Elijah clucked as they tottered by. "Young Hugh won't gain any purchase with John Gray in his sorry state, I'll wager."

"Ain't the least of it," Mose said. "What little traction he's got is owed to Dave Gray, anyway. Since John broke it off 'twixt him and Mary, he's gone to seed with his renters and accounts, too. If Dave didn't bail him out, buyin' up most of the Gregory holdings around, it ain't even Hickory Flat for his pap and a room for him, at that!"

"Faith, and it'll be a long climb out o' the barrel – and longer than the Hurley lad will permit, sure." O'Faolan brimmed with confidence. "Oi'm an ixpert in these mathers."

Absorbed in piloting Hugh onto the boardwalk step, Mercier nearly broad-sided Dave Gray, just departing the Recorder's Office. Gray turned and regarded Mercier and his broken vessel contemptuously.