"
"Abner, you've talked enough. You'd better go home."
The warfare continued for three months. At the end of the first,
Hiram Maxwell, an old soldier, was appointed postmaster, _vice_
Obadiah Strout. At the end of the second month Mr. Strout resigned
his position as organist and the gentleman who led the orchestra that
played during the evening at the hotel was chosen in his stead. At
the end of the third month a red flag was seen hanging at the door of
Mr. Strout's store and Mr. Beers the auctioneer whose once rotund
voice had now become thin and quavering, sold off the remaining stock
and the fixtures. Then the curtains were pulled down and the door
locked. The next day Mr. and Mrs. Strout and family left town.
"What's become of Strout?" Quincy asked his son, who had just
returned from Fernborough. Another month had passed since the auction
sale.
"I heard he was seen on State Street a few days ago, and he said the
best move he ever made was leaving that one-horse country town; that
he could make more money in a day in State Street than he could in a
month in the grocery business. It seems he has become what they call
a curb broker or speculator."
"I am glad," said Quincy, "that Mr. Strout has found a more
profitable and congenial field. It must have been very dull for him
the last three months of his stay in that one-horse town.
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