Part 62 (1/2)

”No. I felt that I had been treated badly and--why, Jed, the man used to urge me to dress better than I could afford, to belong to the most expensive club and all that sort of thing. He knew I was in with a set sporting ten times the money I could muster, and spending it, too, but he seemed to like to have me a.s.sociate with them. Said it was good for the business.”

”Sartin! More crackers for Polly. Go on.”

”I intended that he should never have that money, but after I came here, after I had been here for a time, I changed my mind. I saw things in a different light. I wrote him a letter, told him I meant to pay back every cent of the two thousand I had taken and enclosed my check for the seven hundred and fifty I had put by.

Since then I have paid him two hundred and fifty more, goodness knows how. I have squeezed every penny from my salary that I could spare. I have paid him half of the two thousand and, if everything had gone on well, some day or other I would have paid the other half.”

Jed laid a hand on his companion's knee. ”Good boy, Charlie,” he said. ”And how did the--er--professin' poll parrot act about your payin' it back?”

Charles smiled faintly. ”Just before I talked with you that day, Jed,” he said, ”I received a letter from him stating that he did not feel I was paying as rapidly as I could and that, if he did not receive another five hundred shortly he should feel it his duty to communicate with my present employers. Do you wonder I said I would do almost anything to get the money?”

Jed's hand patted the knee sympathetically.

”Sho, sho, sho!” he exclaimed. ”Have you heard from him since?”

”No, I wrote him that I was paying as fast as I could and that if he communicated with my employers that would end any chances of his ever getting more. He hasn't written since; afraid of stopping the golden egg supply, I presume. . . . But there,” he added, ”that's enough of that. Jed, how could you do it--just for me? Of course I had come to realize that your heart was as big as a bushel basket, and that you and I were friends. But when a fellow gives up four hundred dollars of his own money, and, not only does that, but deliberately confesses himself a thief--when he does that to save some one else who, as he knew, had really been a thief and who he was pretty sure must have stolen again--why, Jed, it is unbelievable. Why did you do it? What can I say to you?”

Jed held up a protesting hand.

”Don't say anything,” he stammered. ”Don't! It's--it's all foolishness, anyhow.”

”Foolishness! It's--oh, I don't know what it is! And to sacrifice your reputation and your character and your friends.h.i.+p with Captain Hunniwell, all for me! I can't understand it.”

”Now--now--now, Charlie, don't try to. If I can't understand myself more'n half the time, what's the use of your strainin' your brains? I--I just took a notion, that's all. I--”

”But, Jed, why did you do it--for me? I have heard of men doing such things for--for women, sacrificing themselves to save a woman they were in love with. You read of that in books and--yes, I think I can understand that. But for you to do it--for ME!”

Jed waved both hands this time. ”Sshh! sshh!” he cried, in frantic protest. His face was a brilliant crimson and his embarra.s.sment and confusion were so acute as to be laughable, although Phillips was far from laughing. ”Sshh, sshh, Charlie,” pleaded Jed. ”You-- you don't know what you're talkin' about. You're makin' an awful fuss about nothin'. Sshh! Yes, you are, too. I didn't have any notion of tellin' Sam I stole that four hundred when I first gave it to him. I was goin' to tell him I found it, that's all. That would keep him bottled up, I figgered, and satisfied and then--then you and I'd have a talk and I'd tell you what I'd done and--well, some day maybe you could pay me back the money; don't you see? I do hope,” he added anxiously, ”you won't hold it against me, for thinkin' maybe you had taken it. Course I'd ought to have known better. I would have known better if I'd been anybody but Shavin's Winslow. HE ain't responsible.”

”Hush, Jed, hus.h.!.+ But why did you say you had--kept it?”

”Eh? Oh, that was Sam's doin's. He commenced to ask questions, and, the first thing I knew, he had me on the spider fryin' over a hot fire. The more I sizzled and sputtered and tried to get out of that spider, the more he poked up the fire. I declare, I never knew lyin' was such a job! When I see how easy and natural it comes to some folks I feel kind of ashamed to think what a poor show I made at it. Well, Sam kept pokin' the fire and heatin' me up till I got desperate and swore I stole the money instead of findin' it. And that was hoppin' out of the fryin' pan INTO the fire,” he drawled reflectively.

Charles smiled. ”Captain Sam said you told him you took the money to buy a suit of clothes with,” he suggested.

”Eh? Did I? Sho! That was a real bright idea of mine, wasn't it?

A suit of clothes. Humph! Wonder I didn't say I bought shoe laces or collar b.u.t.tons or somethin'. . . . Sho! . . . Dear, dear!

Well, they say George Was.h.i.+n'ton couldn't tell a lie and I've proved I can't either; only I've tried to tell one and I don't recollect that he ever did that. . . . Humph! . . . A suit of clothes. . . . Four hundred dollars. . . . Solomon in all his glory would have looked like a calico s.h.i.+rt and a pair of overalls alongside of me, eh? . . . Humph!”

Phillips shook his head. ”Nevertheless, Jed,” he declared, ”I can't understand why you did it and I never--never shall forget it.

Neither will Ruth. She will tell you so to-morrow.”

Jed was frightened. ”No, no, no, she mustn't,” he cried, quickly.

”I--I don't want her to talk about it. I--I don't want anybody to talk about it. Please tell her not to, Charlie! Please! It's-- it's all such foolishness anyhow. Let's forget it.”

”It isn't the sort of thing one forgets easily. But we won't talk of it any more just now, if that pleases you better. I have some other things to talk about and I must talk about them with some one. I MUST--I've got to.”

Jed looked at him. The words reminded him forcibly of Ruth's on that day when she had come to the windmill shop to tell him her brother's story and to discuss the question of his coming to Orham.

She, too, had said that she must talk with some one--she MUST.