"And I wouldn't do that for nobody else," he declared. "You bein' my
relation I don't know's it ain't my duty as a perfessin' Christian
to--to help you out. I hadn't ought to afford it, but I'm willin' to go
so far."
Thankful shook her head. "I'm glad you said, 'PROFESSIN' Christian.'"
she observed. "Well," drawing a long breath, "then I suppose I've got
to say yes or no. . . . And I'll say yes," she added firmly. "And we'll
call it settled."
They parted before the hotel. She was to return to South Middleboro that
afternoon. Mr. Cobb was to prepare the papers and forward them for her
signature, after which, upon receipt of them duly signed, he would send
her the fifteen hundred dollar check.
Solomon climbed into the buggy. "Well, good-by," he said. "I hope you'll
do fust-rate. The interest'll be paid regular, of course. I'm real
pleased to meet you--er--Cousin Thankful. Be sure you sign them papers
in the right place. Good-by. Oh--er--er--sometimes I'll be droppin'
in to see you after you get your boardin'-house goin'. I come to East
Wellmouth once in a while. Yes--yes--I'll come and see you. You can tell
me more about Captain Abner, you know. I'd--I'd like to hear what he
said to you about me. Good-by."
That afternoon, once more in the depot-wagon, which had been refitted
with its fourth wheel, Thankful, on her way to the Wellmouth railway
station, passed her "property." The old house, its weather-beaten
shingles a cold gray in the half-light of the mist-shrouded, sinking
sun, looked lonely and deserted.
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