But Jed was sure that Ruth had been anxious and troubled of late
and he believed the reason to be that which troubled him. He hoped
she might speak to him concerning her brother. He would have liked
to broach the subject himself, but feared she might consider him
interfering.
One day--it was in late February, the ground was covered with snow
and a keen wind was blowing in over a sea gray-green and splashed
thickly with white--Jed was busy at his turning lathe when Charlie
came into the shop. Business at the bank was not heavy in mid-
winter and, although it was but little after three, the young man
was through work for the day. He hoisted himself to his accustomed
seat on the edge of the workbench and sat there, swinging his feet
and watching his companion turn out the heads and trunks of a batch
of wooden sailors. He was unusually silent, for him, merely
nodding in response to Jed's cheerful "Hello!" and speaking but a
few words in reply to a question concerning the weather. Jed,
absorbed in his work and droning a hymn, apparently forgot all
about his caller.
Suddenly the latter spoke.
"Jed," he said, "when you are undecided about doing or not doing a
thing, how do you settle it?"
Jed looked up over his spectacles.
"Eh?" he asked. "What's that?"
"I say when you have a decision to make and your mind is about
fifty-fifty on the subject, how do you decide?"
Jed's answer was absently given.
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