Pa and I expect you to eat your
Thanksgiving dinner with us."
If she had asked him to eat it in jail Jed could not have been more
disturbed.
"Now--now, Maud," he stammered, "I--I'm ever so much obliged to
you, but I--I don't see how--"
"Nonsense! I see how perfectly well. You always act just this way
whenever I invite you to anything. You're not afraid of Pa or me,
are you?"
"W-e-e-ll, well, I ain't afraid of your Pa 's I know of, but of
course, when such a fascinatin' young woman as you comes along, all
rigged up to kill, why, it's natural that an old single relic like
me should get kind of nervous."
Maud clasped her hands. "Oh," she cried, "there's another
compliment! You HAVE changed, Jed. I'm going to ask Father what
it means."
This time Jed was really alarmed. "Now, now, now," he protested,
"don't go tell your Pa yarns about me. He'll come in here and
pester me to death. You know what a tease he is when he gets
started. Don't, Maud, don't."
She looked hugely delighted at the prospect. Her eyes sparkled
with mischief. "I certainly shall tell him," she declared, "unless
you promise to eat with us on Thanksgiving Day. Oh, come along,
don't be so silly. You've eaten at our house hundreds of times."
This was a slight exaggeration. Jed had eaten there possibly five
times in the last five years.
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