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Lincoln, Joseph Crosby, 1870-1944

"Shavings"

And I didn't take it."
Jed gasped again. He stretched out a hand imploringly. "Oh,
Lord," he exclaimed, "I never meant to say that. I--I--"
"It's all right, Jed. I don't blame you for thinking I might have
taken it. Knowing what you did about--well, about my past record,
it is not very astonishing that you should think almost anything."
Jed's agonized contrition was acute.
"Don't talk so, Charlie!" he pleaded. "Don't! I--I'd ought to be
ashamed of myself. I am--mercy knows I am! But . . . Eh? Why,
how did you know I knew about--that?"
"Ruth told me just now. After Captain Hunniwell had gone, she told
me the whole thing. About how Babbie let the cat out of the bag
and how she told you for fear you might suspect something even
worse than the truth; although," he added, "that was quite bad
enough. Yes, she told me everything. You've been a brick all
through, Jed. And now--"
"Wait, Charlie, wait. I--I don't know what to say to you. I don't
know what you must think of me for ever--ever once suspectin' you.
If you hadn't said to me only such a little spell ago that you
needed money so bad and would do most anything to get five hundred
dollars--if you hadn't said that, I don't think the notion would
ever have crossed my mind."
Phillips whistled. "Well, by George!" he exclaimed. "I had
forgotten that.


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