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they thought of that dim-witted scheme.
    Since serving refreshments to important guests was a custom in the bank, Shelby appeared with a coffeepot and a trayful of cups and cookies. She started to pour coffee for Bob Reeder first, but her hands were trembling so hard, she couldn’t hit the cup. Bob Reeder sprang up from his chair and kindly took the pot from her.
    â€œI apologize for giving you the vapors,” he said to Shelby. “I hope you will forgive me.” And he proceeded to serve the coffee himself.
    Shelby smiled a shaky smile and passed around the cookies.
    Bob Reeder returned to his seat, took a handful of cookies, and tried to eat them all at once. The others nibbled politely, and looked anywhere except at thisunfortunate man in the chair, for he was a pitiful sight.
    â€œI reckon it had been a long time since he saw a cookie,” Ruby said that afternoon at Morgan’s Drugs, as she and Mrs. Morgan related the story to some of the townspeople who had come in from the heat for an afternoon break.
    â€œMr. Dales gave him the rest to take home to his kids,” Mrs. Morgan added.
    Ruby was twirling round and round on one of the soda counter stools. Between sentences, she was biting the caps off of tiny wax Coke bottles and slurping the colored liquid out of them. Walter Rife at Rife’s Five and Dime had given them to her, probably trying to make up for the behavior of his mother, the nutty rock thrower.
    â€œThe mayor donated a bunch of groceries from his store to the Reeders,” Ruby went on.
    â€œAnd Mr. Dales is arranging for them to come to Way Down and live in his old empty house on Ward Street,” Mrs. Morgan added. “Get them close to us, see, so we can all pitch in and help them.”
    â€œFor inasmuch as ye have done it unto the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me!”
    The room fell quiet as everybody turned to look at Miss Worly. She and Mr. Gentry were sitting in one of the tall black booths, sipping something cold. The townspeople were surprised to hear Miss Worly quoting Scripture, as she was not known to be religious. No doubt the word
inasmuch
, one of her favorites, had tempted her to do it.
    â€œYou said it, Miss Wordy,” Ruby said. “The least of these my brethren—that’s Robber Bob to a T!”
    From that moment to the last day of his life Bob Reeder was known as Robber Bob, and contrary to what one might think, he liked the nickname. He figured anything was better than Shorty.

8
    T HE TELEPHONE WAS STILL A FAIRLY NEWFANGLED INVEN tion to the small towns and hamlets of West Virginia, and folks were not yet inclined to depend on it for conducting business, which suited Miss Arbutus, for she did not like to speak into a receiver any more than she liked talking face-to-face with folks. When she needed to contact somebody outside of town, which was a rare occasion, she wrote very nice handwritten letters. To Way Down folks, she sent a messenger.
    For the convenience of the boarders, however, there was indeed a phone at The Roost. The number was Olive-4000, requested by Miss Arbutus’s father because it would be easy for guests to remember. Rarely did a call come for reserving a room at The Roost. Most folks just showed up at the door. But when such a call came, whoever answered the phone took the message for Miss Arbutus.
    There were four other residences on the same partyline with The Roost. The phone was located by the fireplace in the common room, and any time you passed through, you were liable to find Mrs. Thornton Elkins curled up there on the sofa, with an ear to the receiver, listening in. She found telephone discussions most interesting and enlightening. So much so, in fact, that sometimes she plumb forgot herself and joined in the conversation.
    To be fair, Mrs. Thornton Elkins was not alone in her attraction to the party line. It was common practice for Way Down folks, when they had nothing else to do, to