Parker--generally does it, but he probably won't be here for quite a spell yet.Go ahead.Imogene'll show you what to do....
But, say, hold on," she added, with emphasis."Don't you go off the premises, and if you see anybody comin', keep out of sight.Idon't want anybody to see a brother of mine in THOSE clothes.
Soon's ever I can I'll go up to the village and buy you somethin'
to wear, if it's only an 'ilskin jacket and a pair of overalls.
They'll cover up the rags, anyhow.As you are now, you look like one of Georgie's picture-puzzles partly put together."When the eager applicant for employment had gone, under Imogene's guidance, Emily spoke her mind.
"Auntie," she said, "are you going to make him work--now; after what he's been through, and on Christmas day, too?"Thankful was still staring after her brother.
"Sshh! sshh!" she commanded."Don't speak to me for a minute; you may wake me up.Jedediah Cahoon ASKIN' to go to work! All the miracles in Scriptur' are nothin' to this.""But, Auntie, he did ask.And do you think he is strong enough?""Hush, Emily, hush! You don't know Jedediah.Strong enough! I'm the one that needs strength, if I'm goin' to have shocks like this one sprung on me."Emily said no more, but she noticed that her cousin was wearing the two-dollar ring, the wanderer's "farewell" gift, so she judged that brother Jed would not be worked beyond the bounds of moderation.
Left alone in the dining-room--Georgie had returned to the living-room and his presents--the two women looked at each other.Neither had eaten a breakfast worth mentioning and the same thought was in the mind of each.
"Auntie," whispered Emily, voicing that thought, "don't you think we ought to go up and--and see if he is--all right."Thankful nodded."Yes," she said, "I suppose we had.He's alive, I know that much, for I had Imogene knock on his door just now and he answered.But I guess maybe we'd better--"She did not finish the sentence for at that moment the subject of the conversation entered the room.It was Solomon Cobb who entered, but, except for his clothes, he was a changed man.His truculent arrogance was gone, he came in slowly and almost as if he were walking in his sleep.His collar was unbuttoned, his hair had not been combed, and the face between the thin bunches of whiskers was white and drawn.He did not speak to either Emily or Thankful, but, dragging one foot after the other, crossed the room and sat down in a chair by the window.
Thankful spoke to him.
"Are you sick, Solomon?" she asked.
Mr.Cobb shook his head.
"Eh?" he grunted."No, no, I ain't sick.I guess I ain't; I don't know.""Breakfast is all ready, Mr.Cobb," suggested Emily.
Solomon turned a weary eye in her direction.He looked old, very old.
"Breakfast!" he repeated feebly."Don't talk about breakfast to me! I'll never eat again in this world."Thankful pitied him; she could not help it.
"Oh, yes, you will," she said, heartily."Just try one of those clam fritters of Imogene's and you'll eat a whole lot.If you don't you'll be the first one."He shook his head."Thankful," he said, slowly, "I--I want to talk to you.I've got to talk to you--alone.""Alone! Why, Emily's just the same as one of the family.There's no secrets between us, Solomon.""I don't care.I wan't to talk to you.It's you I've got to talk to."Thankful would have protested once more, but Emily put a hand on her arm.
"I'll go into the living-room with Georgie, Auntie," she whispered.
"Yes, I shall."
She went and closed the door behind her.Thankful sat down in a chair, wondering what was coming next.Solomon did not look at her, but, after a moment, he spoke.
"Thankful Cahoon," he said, calling her by her maiden name."I--I've been a bad man.I'm goin' to hell."Thankful jumped."Mercy on us!" she cried."What kind of talk--""I'm goin' to hell," repeated Solomon."When a man does the way I've done that's where he goes.I'm goin there and I'm goin'
pretty soon.I've had my notice."
Thankful stood up.She was convinced that her visitor had been driven crazy by his experience in the back bedroom.
"Now, now, now," she faltered."Don't talk so wicked, Solomon Cobb.You've been a church man for years, and a professor of religion.You told me so, yourself.How can you set there and say--"Mr.Cobb waved his hand.
"Don't make no difference," he moaned."Or, if it does, it only makes it worse.I know where I'm goin', but--but I'll go with a clean manifest, anyhow.I'll tell you the whole thing.I promised the dead I would and I will.Thankful Cahoon, I've been a bad man to you.I swore my solemn oath as a Christian to one that was my best friend, and I broke it.
"Years ago I swore by all that was good and great I'd look out for you and see that you was comf'table and happy long's you lived.
And instead of that, when I come here last night--LED here, I know now that I was--my mind was about made up to take your home away from you, if I could.Yes, sir, I was cal'latin' to foreclose on you and sell this place to Kendrick.I thought I was mighty smart and was doin' a good stroke of business.No mortal man could have made me think diff'rent; BUT AN IMMORTAL ONE DID!"He groaned and wiped his forehead.Thankful did not speak; her surprise and curiosity were too great for speech.
"'Twas your Uncle Abner Barnes," went on Solomon, "that was the makin' of me.I sailed fust mate for him fourteen year.And he always treated me fine, raised my wages right along, and the like of that.'Twas him that put me in the way of investin' my money in them sugar stocks and the rest.He made me rich, or headed me that way.And when he lost all he had except this place here and was dyin' aboard the old schooner, he calls me to him and he says:
