"Sho!" he exclaimed. "Sho, sho! Dear me! The poor young feller!"
She looked up at him quickly. "Thank you," she said, gratefully.
"Yes, he was sent to prison. He was calm and resigned and very
brave about it, but to me it was a dreadful shock. You see, he had
taken so little money, not much over two thousand dollars. We
could have borrowed it, I'm sure; he and I could have worked out
the debt together. We could have done it; I would have worked at
anything, no matter how hard, rather than have my brother branded
all his life with the disgrace of having been in prison. But the
man for whom he had worked was furiously angry at what he called
Charlie's ingratitude; he would teach the young thief a lesson, he
said. Our lawyer went to him; I went to him and begged him not to
press the case. Of course Charlie didn't know of my going; he
never would have permitted it if he had. But I went and begged and
pleaded. It did no good. Why, even the judge at the trial, when
he charged the jury, spoke of the defendant's youth and previous
good character. . . ."
She covered her eyes with her hand. Poor Jed's face was a picture
of distress.
"Now--now, Mrs. Armstrong," he urged, "don't, please don't. I--I
wouldn't tell me any more about it, if I was you. Of course I'm--
I'm proud to think you believed I was worth while tellin' it to and
all that, but--you mustn't.
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