"
Another period of reflection. Then: "City folks or Orham folks?"
inquired Mr. Winslow.
"City folks."
Some of the worried look disappeared. Jed was plainly relieved and
more hopeful.
"Oh, then they won't want it," he declared. "City folks want to
hire houses in the spring, not along as late in the summer as
this."
"These people do. They're thinkin' of livin' here in Orham all the
year round. It's a first-rate chance for you, Jed. Course, I know
you don't really need the money, perhaps, but--well, to be real
honest, I want these folks to stay in Orham--they're the kind of
folks the town needs--and I want 'em contented. I think they would
be contented in your house. You let those Davidsons from Chicago
have the place that summer, but you've never let anybody so much as
consider it since. What's the real reason? You've told me as much
as a dozen, but I'll bet anything you've never told me the real
one. 'Twas somethin' the Davidsons did you didn't like--but what?"
Jed's rocking back and forth on the box became almost energetic and
his troubled expression more than ever apparent.
"Now--now, Sam," he begged, "I've told you all about that ever and
ever so many times. There wasn't anything, really."
"There was, too. What was it?"
Jed suffered in silence for two or three minutes.
"What was the real reason? Out with it," persisted Captain
Hunniwell.
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