Thankful's Inheritance Part 60

"Why, yes. You and he are engaged to be married and of course you like to have him here."

Imogene burst out laughing. "Don't you worry about that, Miss Emily,"

she said. "I shan't, and I don't think Kenelm will, either."

Breakfast was ready at last and they were just sitting down to the table--it had been decided not to call Jedediah or Mr. Cobb--when Georgie appeared. The boy had crept downstairs, his small head filled with forebodings; but the sight of the k.n.o.bby stocking and the heap of presents sent his fears flying and he burst into the room with a shriek of joy. One by one the packages were unwrapped and, with each unwrapping, the youngster's excitement rose.

"Gee!" he cried, as he sat in the middle of the heap of toys and brown paper and looked about him. "Gee! They're all here; everything I wanted--but that air-gun. I don't care, though. Maybe I'll get that next Christmas. Or maybe Cap'n Bangs'll give it to me, anyhow. He gives me most anything, if I tease for it."

Thankful shook her head. "You see, Georgie," she said, "it pays to be a good boy. If Santa had caught you hidin' under that sofa and watchin'

for him last night you might not have got any of these nice things."

Georgie did not answer immediately. When he did it was in a rather doubtful tone.

"There ain't any soot on 'em, anyhow," he observed. "And they ain't wet, either."

Imogene clapped her hand to her mouth and hurried from the room. "You can't fool that kid much," she whispered to Emily afterward. "He's the smartest kid ever I saw. I'll keep out of his way for a while; I don't want to have to answer his questions."

There were other presents besides those given to Georgie; presents for Emily from Thankful, and for Thankful from Emily, and for Imogene from both. There was nothing costly, of course, but no one cared for that.

As they were beginning breakfast Jedediah appeared. His garments, which had been drying by the kitchen stove all night and which Imogene had deposited in a heap at his bedroom door, were wrinkled, but his face shone from the vigorous application of soap and water and, as his sister said afterward, "You could see his complexion without diggin' for it, and that was somethin'."

His manner was subdued and he was very, very polite and anxious to please, but his appet.i.te was in good order. Introduced to Imogene he expressed himself as pleased to meet her. Georgie he greeted with some hesitation; evidently the memory of his midnight encounter with the boy embarra.s.sed him. But Georgie, when he learned that the shabby person whom he was told to call "Uncle Jed" was, although only an imitation Santa Claus, a genuine gold-hunter and traveler who had seen real Esquimaux and polar bears, warmed to his new relative immediately.

When the meal was over Jedediah made what was, for him, an amazing suggestion.

"Now," he said, "I cal'late I'd better be gettin' to work, hadn't I?

What'll I do first, Thankful?"

Mrs. Barnes stared at him. "Work?" she repeated. "What do you mean?"

"I mean I want to be doin' somethin'--somethin' to help, you know. I don't cal'late to stay around here and loaf. No, SIR!"

Thankful drew a long breath. "All right, Jed," she said. "You can go out in the barn and feed the horse if you want to. Kenelm--Mr.

Parker--generally does it, but he probably won't be here for quite a spell yet. Go ahead. Imogene'll show you what to do. . . . But, say, hold on," she added, with emphasis. "Don't you go off the premises, and if you see anybody comin', keep out of sight. I don't want anybody to see a brother of mine in THOSE clothes. Soon's ever I can I'll go up to the village and buy you somethin' to wear, if it's only an 'ilskin jacket and a pair of overalls. They'll cover up the rags, anyhow. As you are now, you look like one of Georgie's picture-puzzles partly put together."

When the eager applicant for employment had gone, under Imogene's guidance, Emily spoke her mind.

"Auntie," she said, "are you going to make him work--now; after what he's been through, and on Christmas day, too?"

Thankful was still staring after her brother.

"Sshh! sshh!" she commanded. "Don't speak to me for a minute; you may wake me up. Jedediah Cahoon ASKIN' to go to work! All the miracles in Scriptur' are nothin' to this."

"But, Auntie, he did ask. And do you think he is strong enough?"

"Hush, Emily, hush! You don't know Jedediah. Strong enough! I'm the one that needs strength, if I'm goin' to have shocks like this one sprung on me."

Emily said no more, but she noticed that her cousin was wearing the two-dollar ring, the wanderer's "farewell" gift, so she judged that brother Jed would not be worked beyond the bounds of moderation.

Left alone in the dining-room--Georgie had returned to the living-room and his presents--the two women looked at each other. Neither had eaten a breakfast worth mentioning and the same thought was in the mind of each.

"Auntie," whispered Emily, voicing that thought, "don't you think we ought to go up and--and see if he is--all right."

Thankful nodded. "Yes," she said, "I suppose we had. He's alive, I know that much, for I had Imogene knock on his door just now and he answered.

But I guess maybe we'd better--"

She did not finish the sentence for at that moment the subject of the conversation entered the room. It was Solomon Cobb who entered, but, except for his clothes, he was a changed man. His truculent arrogance was gone, he came in slowly and almost as if he were walking in his sleep. His collar was unb.u.t.toned, his hair had not been combed, and the face between the thin bunches of whiskers was white and drawn. He did not speak to either Emily or Thankful, but, dragging one foot after the other, crossed the room and sat down in a chair by the window.

Thankful spoke to him.

"Are you sick, Solomon?" she asked.

Mr. Cobb shook his head.

"Eh?" he grunted. "No, no, I ain't sick. I guess I ain't; I don't know."

"Breakfast is all ready, Mr. Cobb," suggested Emily.

Solomon turned a weary eye in her direction. He looked old, very old.

"Breakfast!" he repeated feebly. "Don't talk about breakfast to me! I'll never eat again in this world."

Thankful pitied him; she could not help it.

"Oh, yes, you will," she said, heartily. "Just try one of those clam fritters of Imogene's and you'll eat a whole lot. If you don't you'll be the first one."

He shook his head. "Thankful," he said, slowly, "I--I want to talk to you. I've got to talk to you--alone."

"Alone! Why, Emily's just the same as one of the family. There's no secrets between us, Solomon."

"I don't care. I wan't to talk to you. It's you I've got to talk to."

Thankful would have protested once more, but Emily put a hand on her arm.

"I'll go into the living-room with Georgie, Auntie," she whispered.

"Yes, I shall."

She went and closed the door behind her. Thankful sat down in a chair, wondering what was coming next. Solomon did not look at her, but, after a moment, he spoke.

"Thankful Cahoon," he said, calling her by her maiden name. "I--I've been a bad man. I'm goin' to h.e.l.l."

Thankful jumped. "Mercy on us!" she cried. "What kind of talk--"

"I'm goin' to h.e.l.l," repeated Solomon. "When a man does the way I've done that's where he goes. I'm goin there and I'm goin' pretty soon.

I've had my notice."

Thankful stood up. She was convinced that her visitor had been driven crazy by his experience in the back bedroom.

"Now, now, now," she faltered. "Don't talk so wicked, Solomon Cobb.