For twenty-two years MarkMelcher had walked fromhis drugstore to his house atexactly five o’clock. Methodical,Mark was. For twenty-two years hehad been greeted respectfully alongthe way by men and women whohad grown old with him. Dignified,Mark was. For twenty-two years hehad stopped to pat the heads ofchildren, and give them pennycandies. Kindly, Mark was.“Wouldn’t hurt a fly,” as Bob Barstow, the sheriff,often said. Mark was Willowville’s best-loved citizen, allright. People came to him with their troubles. Behindhis old, dusty prescription counter he listened to the For twenty-two years MarkMelcher had walked fromhis drugstore to his house atexactly five o’clock. Methodical, Mark was. For twenty-two years hehad been greeted respectally along the way by men and women whohad grown old with him. Dignified, Mark was. For twenty-two years hehad stopped to pat the heads ofchildren, and give them pennycandies. Kindly, Mark was. “Would not hurt a fly, ” as Bob Barstow, the sheriff, often said. Mark was Willowville’s best-loved citizen, allright. People came to him with their troubles. Behindhis old, dusty prescription counter he listened to the