The post office was one corner of H. F. Firth's store, the only one in Aravaipa and twenty miles beyond that. Firth noticed the good-looking blond boy from the first time he came to the store. The boy would come to the post office window, smile, and ask only, “Power?” Firth rarely nodded “yes.” But he kept an eye on the boy, sure that his slow progress around the store was the progress of a thief. Times were hard, and he didn't need to add theft to his woes. But as far as he could tell, the boy never stole anything but just wandered, picking up cans and boxes and bottles and staring at them as if they were jewels or two-headed cats.

“Are you planning to buy something?” Firth asked one day. He was tired and had a toothache and too many bills to pay. The question was designed to scare the boy off. It would have set any number of boys to stammering and looking for the door.

“No, sir,” the boy said. He smiled broadly. It was a good smile, shy, but still welcoming. “You can bet I would if I had any money. Yes, sir. I surely would.”

“Then why are you here, picking everything up, looking at all I got. I'm here to sell, not entertain boys.”

The smile again. “I ain't going to be poor my whole life. I'm going to get me some money, and when I do, I plan to be prepared. I'm going to march right in here, money in my hand, and buy what I want. What are applecots?”

“Apricots. They're like little peaches, sweeter, though.”

“That's the first thing I'm going to buy, then. I ain't never had any, ain't never heard of any until now. But that's what I want. ‘Applecots.’”

“Apricots.”

The boy smiled again, a broader, brighter smile. “Apricots,” he said. “Yes, sir. I'm going to buy me a can of those apricots.”

Then, for no reason he could have explained, Firth said, “If someone was handy with a broom and could sweep out this store, I believe I would be willing to give him a can or two.”

The boy smiled. “Where's the broom? I'm your man for that.”

Tom Power continued to come to the store twice a week, marching in, asking for mail, which he rarely got, then marching to the back of the store, taking up the broom, and sweeping out. When he was done, he would start his slow circuit of the store again, peering at all the cans and bottles. He often chose a can of apricots when he was done, but he also tried spiced apples, quince, and kippered herring.