"No, sir; just children he picked up around, here and there."
Here is a curious character, sure enough, I thought—one well worth looking into.
Another lull, and then as I was leaving the room to give the matter a little quiet attention, I remarked to the boat-maker:
"Outside of his foolish giving, you haven't anything against Charlie Potter, have you?"
"Not a thing," he replied, in apparent astonishment. "Charlie Potter's one of the best men that ever lived. He's a good man."
I smiled at the inconsistency and went my way.
A day or two later the loft of the sail-maker, instead of the shed of the boat-builder, happened to be my lounging place, and thinking of this theme, now uppermost in my mind, I said to him:
"Do you know a man around here by the name of Charlie Potter?"
"Well, I might say that I do. He lived here for over fifteen years."
"What sort of a man is he?"