. . . Oh, I remember now! You said
somethin' about your brother's workin' in a bank and that set me
thinkin' that Sam must be needin' somebody by this time in Lute
Small's place."
"You didn't know he needed any one?"
"No-o, not exactly; but I knew Lute, and that amounted to the same
thing. Mrs. Armstrong, I do hope you'll forgive me for--for
singin' and--and all the rest of my foolish actions."
"Forgive you! Will you forgive me for misjudging you?"
"Land sakes, don't talk that way. But there's one thing I haven't
said yet and you may not like it. I guess you and your brother'll
have to go to Sam and tell him the whole story."
Her expression changed. "The whole story?" she repeated. "Why,
what do you mean? Tell him that Charles has been in--in prison?
You don't mean THAT?"
"Um-hm," gravely; "I'm afraid I do. It looks to me as if it was
the only way."
"But we can't! Oh, Mr. Winslow, we can't do that."
"I know 'twill be awful hard for you. But, when I talked to Sam
about my havin' a possible candidate for the bank place, the very
last thing he said was that he'd be glad to see him providin' his
references was all right. I give you my word I'd never thought of
references, not till then."
"But if we tell him--tell him everything, we shall only make
matters worse, shan't we? Of course he won't give him the position
then.
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