"Aunt Thankful, have you seen
this? He--"
"Stop your talk!" shouted Solomon. "Can't you women do nothin' BUT talk?
Sign your name alongside of mine as a witness."
Emily took the pen and signed as directed. Mr. Cobb snatched the paper
from her, glanced at it and then handed it to Thankful.
"There!" he cried. "That's done, anyhow. I've done so much. Now--now
don't say a word to me for a spell. I--I'm all in; that's what I am, all
in."
Thankful did not say a word; she couldn't have said it at that moment.
Upon the paper which she held in her hand was written a cancellation of
the fifteen-hundred-dollar mortgage and a receipt in full for the loan
itself, signed by Solomon Cobb.
Dimly and uncomprehendingly she heard Emily trying to thank their
visitor. But thanks he would not listen to.
"No, no, no!" he shouted. "Go away and let me alone. I'm a wicked,
condemned critter. Nobody's ever cared a durn for me, nobody but one,
and I broke my word to him. Friendless I've lived since Abner went and
friendless I'll die. Serve me right. I ain't got a livin' soul of my own
blood in the world."
But Thankful was in a measure herself again.
"Don't talk so, Solomon," she cried. "You have got somebody of your own
blood. I'm a relation of yours, even if 'tis a far-off relation. I--I
don't know how to thank you for this. I--"
He interrupted again.
"Yes," he wailed, "you're my relation. I know it. Think that makes it
any better? Look how I've treated you.
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