Maybe
I'd better go down and kind of explain it to him."
Captain Sam chuckled. "I wouldn't," he said. "If I was you I'd
explain over the long distance telephone. But, anyhow, I wouldn't
worry much. I cal'late Emma J. exaggerated affairs some.
Probably, if the truth was known, you'd find not more than four
folks came there lookin' for you yesterday. Don't worry, Jed."
Jed did not answer. The word "worry" had reminded him of his other
visitor that morning. He looked so serious that his friend
repeated his adjuration.
"Don't worry, I tell you," he said, again. "'Tisn't worth it."
"All right, I won't. . . . I won't. . . . Sam, I was thinkin'
about you afore you came in. You remember I told you that?"
"I remember. What have you got on your mind? Any more money
kickin' around this glory-hole that you want me to put to your
account?"
"Eh? . . . Oh, yes, I believe there is some somewheres. Seems to
me I put about a hundred and ten dollars, checks and bills and
such, away day before yesterday for you to take when you came.
Maybe I'll remember where I put it before you go. But 'twan't
about that I was thinkin'. Sam, how is Barzilla Small's boy, Lute,
gettin' along in Gus Howes' job at the bank?"
Captain Sam snorted disgust.
"Gettin' along!" he repeated. "He's gettin' along the way a squid
swims, and that's backwards.
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