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Lincoln, Joseph Crosby, 1870-1944

"Shavings"

"
The little man's face was a sight. As Jed said afterward, he
looked as if he would have enjoyed biting his way out of the shop.
"Huh!" he snarled; "I see. You're all in together, the whole lot
of you. And you, you brass buttons, you're usin' your soldierin'
job to keep your friends out of trouble. . . . Huh! Yes, that's
what you're doin'."
The Major's smile was provokingly cool.
"Perhaps I am," he admitted. "But I shouldn't advise you to forget
what I have just told you, Babbitt. I mean every word of it."
It was Ruth who spoke next. She uttered a startled exclamation.
"There's some one coming up the walk," she cried. "Listen."
Sure enough, heavy footsteps sounded upon the walk leading from the
front gate to the shop. Jed ran to the window.
"It's Sam," he exclaimed. "Good heavens above! It's Sam Hunniwell,
of all folks--now!"
Grover looked from one face to the other.
"Is there any particular reason why Captain Hunniwell shouldn't
come?" he asked.
Jed and Ruth were silent. Phineas chuckled malevolently. Jed
heard the chuckle and spoke.
"'Twas--'twas Cap'n Sam he was goin' to tell," he whispered,
pointing at Babbitt. Ruth caught her breath with a frightened
gasp.
Grover nodded. "Oh, I see," he said. "Well, I don't think he
will. He'll be more--more--careful, I'm sure. Babbitt, remember.


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