You mustn't say I'm
doin' it for you. I'm the one that just happened to think of it,
that's all. You could have done it just as well, if you'd thought
of it."
"Perhaps," with a doubtful smile, "but I should never have thought
of it. You did because you were thinking for me--for my brother
and me. And--and I thought you didn't care."
"Eh? . . . Didn't care?"
"Yes. When I left you at the shop this morning after our talk.
You were so--so odd. You didn't speak, or offer to advise me as I
had asked you to; you didn't even say good-by. You just sat there
and let me go. And I didn't understand and--"
Jed put up a hand. His face was a picture of distress.
"Dear, dear, dear!" he exclaimed. "Did I do that? I don't
remember it, but of course I did if you say so. Now what on earth
possessed me to? . . . Eh?" as the idea occurred to him. "Tell
me, was I singin'?"
"Why, yes, you were. That is, you were--were--"
"Makin' a noise as if I'd swallowed a hymn book and one of the
tunes was chokin' me to death? Um-hm, that's the way I sing. And
I was singin' when you left me, eh? That means I was thinkin'
about somethin'. I told Babbie once, and it's the truth, that
thinkin' was a big job with me and when I did it I had to drop
everything else, come up into the wind like a schooner, you know,
and just lay to and think.
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