Chapter Two

Dennis hove in sight presently -- the very man, of all men, whose ridicule he had been dreading. Dennis' gait was a bit wobbly -- proof enough that his heart was light and his anticipations high. He was sipping a beer.

"Hi- yi ! You're up a stump, ain't you!"

No answer. Alan surveyed his last touch with the eye of an artist, then he gave his brush another gentle sweep and surveyed the result. Dennis ranged up alongside of him. Alan's mouth watered for the beer, but he stuck to his work. Dennis said:

"Hello, old chap, you got to work, hey?"

Alan wheeled suddenly and said:

"Why, it's you, Dennis! I warn't noticing."

"Say -- I'm going to the Granville Anvil, I am. Don't you wish you could? But of course you'd druther work -- wouldn't you? Course you would!"

Alan contemplated him a bit, and said:

"What do you call work?"

"Why, ain't that work?"

Alan resumed slapping stain on the fence, and answered carelessly:

"Well, maybe it is, and maybe it ain't. All I know, is, it suits me."

"Oh come now, you don't mean to let on that you like it?"

The brush continued to move.

"Like it? Well, I don't see why I oughtn't to like it. Does a man get a chance to paint stain on a fence every day?"

That put the thing in a new light. Dennis stopped sipping his beer. Alan swept his brush daintily back and forth -- stepped back to note the effect -- added a touch here and there -- criticised the effect again -- Dennis watching every move and getting more and more interested, more and more absorbed. Presently he said:

"Say, Alan, let me slap a little stain on that fence."

Alan considered, was about to consent; but he altered his mind:

"No -- no -- I reckon it wouldn't hardly do, Dennis. You see, Mark is awful particular about this fence -- he would have a shit fit. Yes, he's awful particular about this fence; it's got to be done very careful; I reckon there ain't one man in a thousand, maybe two thousand, that can do it the way it's got to be done."

"No -- is that so? Oh come, now -- lemme just try. Only just a little -- I'd let you , if you was me, Alan."

"Dennis, I'd like to, honest injun; but Mark -- well, Croatian Steve wanted to do it, but Mark wouldn't let him; Frank the plumber wanted to do it, and he wouldn't let Frank. Now don't you see how I'm fixed? If you was to tackle this fence and anything was to happen to it -- "

"Oh, shucks, I'll be just as careful. Now lemme try. Say -- I'll give you what's left of my beer."

"Well, here -- No, Dennis, now don't. I'm afeard -- "

"I'll give you the whole bottle of beer!"

"Make it that beer and the one you have in your back pocket."

Alan gave up the brush with reluctance in his face, but alacrity in his heart. And while Dennis worked and sweated in the sun, the retired artist lay back in the lawn chair in the shade close by, dangled his legs, drank his beers, and planned the slaughter of more innocents....      

"ALAN!!!"

...."Huh, what?"

"Wake up Alan."

"Oh, Mark. Sorry, I kind of dozed off there."

"Get back to staining that fence. It's got to be done before winter, and I know you. If I don't keep on you, it'll never get done.'

"Damn, I just had the strangest dream. You were in it, and Dennis was in it, But it couldn't have been just a dream, could it?"

Apologies, to Sam Clemens