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Lincoln, Joseph Crosby, 1870-1944

"Shavings"

It was just that he tell of Charles
and his ability and character as he knew them. It wasn't wrong,
was it?"
Jed did not answer.
"If it was," she declared, "I can't help it. I would do it again--
for the same reason--to save him and his future, to save us all. I
can't help what you think of me. It doesn't matter. All that does
matter is that you keep silent and let my brother have his chance."
Jed, leaning forward in his chair by the workbench, put his hand to
his forehead.
"Don't--don't talk so, Mrs. Armstrong," he begged. "You know--you
know I don't think anything you've done is wrong. I ain't got the
right to think any such thing as that. And as for keepin' still--
why, I--I did hope you wouldn't feel 'twas necessary to ask that."
"I don't--I don't. I know you and I trust you. You are the only
person in Orham whom I have trusted. You know that."
"Why, yes--why, yes, I do know it and--and I'm ever so much obliged
to you. More obliged than I can tell you, I am. Now--now would
you mind tellin' me just one thing more? About this Mr. What's-
his-name out West in the bank there--this Mr. Reed--did he write
you he thought 'twas all right for him to send Sam the--the kind of
letter he did send him, the one givin' your brother such a good
reference?"
The color rose in her face and she hesitated before replying.


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