He had earned a little money and lost it, earned a little more and
lost that; had been in Nome and Vancouver and Portland and Seattle; had
driven a street car in Tacoma.
I wrote you from Tacoma, Thankful [the letter said], after I lost that
job, but you never answered. Now I am in 'Frisco and I am down and out.
I ain't got any good job and I don't know where I will get one. I want
to come home. Can't I come? I am sorry I cleared out and left you the
way I done, and if you will let me come back home again I will try to
be a good brother to you. I will; honest. I won't complain no more and
I will split the kindling and everything. Please say I can come. Do
PLEASE.
Then came the appeal for money, money for the fare east. It was to be
sent to an address in San Francisco, in care of a person named Michael
Kelly.
I am staying with this Kelly man [concluded Jedediah]. He keeps a kind
of hotel like and I am doing chores for him. If you send the money right
off I will get it I guess before he fires me. Send it QUICK for the Lord
sakes.
Captain Obed finished the letter.
"Whew!" he whistled. "He's in hard luck, ain't he?"
Thankful wrung her hands. "Yes," she answered, "and I must help him
somehow. But how I'm goin' to do it just now I don't see. But I must, of
course. He's my brother and I MUST."
"Sartin you must. We--er--that is, that can be fixed all right. Humph!
He sent this to you at South Middleboro, didn't he, and 'twas forwarded.
Pages:
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303