Shavings Part 2

Mr. Bea.r.s.e looked rather foolish. "Oh, we was just--just talkin'

about--er--this and that," he said, hastily. "Just this and that, nothin' partic'lar. Cal'late I'll have to be runnin' along now, Jed."

Jed Winslow selected a new and unpainted sailor from the pile near him. He eyed it dreamily.

"Well, Gabe," he observed, "if you must, you must, I suppose.

Seems to me you're leavin' at the most interestin' time. We've been talkin' about this and that, same as you say, and now you're leavin' just as 'this' has got here. Maybe if you wait--wait--a--"

The sentence died away into nothingness. He had taken up the brush which he used for the blue paint. There was a loose bristle in it.

He pulled this out and one or two more came with it.

"Hu-um!" he mused, absently.

Captain Sam was tired of waiting.

"Come, finish her out, Jed--finish her out," he urged. "What's the rest of it?"

"I cal'late I'll run along now," said Mr. Bea.r.s.e, nervously moving toward the door.

"Hold on a minute," commanded the captain. "Jed hadn't finished what he was sayin' to you. He generally talks like one of those continued-in-our-next yarns in the magazines. Give us the September installment, Jed--come."

Mr. Winslow smiled, a slow, whimsical smile that lit up his lean, brown face and then pa.s.sed away as slowly as it had come, lingering for an instant at one corner of his mouth.

"Oh, I was just tellin' Gabe that the 'this' he was talkin' about was here now," he said, "and that maybe if he waited a s.p.a.ce the 'that' would come, too. Seems to me if I was you, Gabe, I'd--"

But Mr. Bea.r.s.e had gone.

Captain Hunniwell snorted. "Humph!" he said; "I judge likely I'm the 'this' you and that gas bag have been talkin' about. Who's the 'that'?"

His companion was gazing absently at the door through which Gabriel had made his hurried departure. After gazing at it in silence for a moment, he rose from the chair, unfolding section by section like a pocket rule, and, crossing the room, opened the door and took from its other side the lettered sign "Private" which had hung there. Then, with tacks and a hammer, he proceeded to affix the placard to the inner side of the door, that facing the room where he and Captain Sam were. The captain regarded this operation with huge astonishment.

"Gracious king!" he exclaimed. "What in thunder are you doin' that for? This is the private room in here, ain't it?"

Mr. Winslow, returning to his chair, nodded.

"Ya-as," he admitted, "that's why I'm puttin' the 'Private' sign on this side of the door."

"Yes, but-- Why, confound it, anybody who sees it there will think it is the other room that's private, won't they?"

Jed nodded. "I'm in hopes they will," he said.

"You're in hopes they will! Why?"

"'Cause if Gabe Bea.r.s.e thinks that room's private and that he don't belong there he'll be sartin sure to go there; then maybe he'll give me a rest."

He selected a new brush and went on with his painting. Captain Hunniwell laughed heartily. Then, all at once, his laughter ceased and his face a.s.sumed a troubled expression.

"Jed," he ordered, "leave off daubin' at that wooden doll baby for a minute, will you? I want to talk to you. I want to ask you what you think I'd better do. I know what Gab Bea.r.s.e-- Much obliged for that name, Jed; 'Gab's' the best name on earth for that critter--I know what Gab came in here to talk about. 'Twas about me and my bein' put on the Exemption Board, of course. That was it, wan't it? Um-hm, I knew 'twas. I was the 'this' in his 'this and that.' And Phin Babbitt was the 'that'; I'll bet on it. Am I right?"

Winslow nodded.

"Sure thing!" continued the captain. "Well, there 'tis. What am I goin' to do? When they wanted me to take the job in the first place I kind of hesitated. You know I did. 'Twas bound to be one of those thankless sort of jobs that get a feller into trouble, bound to be. And yet--and yet--well, SOMEBODY has to take those kind of jobs. And a man hadn't ought to talk all the time about how he wishes he could do somethin' to help his country, and then lay down and quit on the first chance that comes his way, just 'cause that chance ain't--ain't eatin' up all the pie in the state so the Germans can't get it, or somethin' like that. Ain't that so?"

"Seems so to me, Sam."

"Yes. Well, so I said I'd take my Exemption Board job. But when I said I'd accept it, it didn't run across my mind that Leander Babbitt was liable to be drafted, first crack out of the box. Now he IS drafted, and, if I know Phin Babbitt, the old man will be down on us Board fellers the first thing to get the boy exempted.

AND, I bein' on the Board and hailin' from his own town, Orham here, it would naturally be to me that he'd come first. Eh?

That's what he'd naturally do, ain't it?"

His friend nodded once more. Captain Sam lost patience.

"Gracious king!" he exclaimed. "Jed Winslow, for thunder sakes say somethin'! Don't set there bobbin' your head up and down like one of those wound-up images in a Christmas-time store window. I ask you if that ain't what Phin Babbitt would do? What would you do if you was in his shoes?"

Jed rubbed his chin.

"Step out of 'em, I guess likely," he drawled.

"Humph! Yes--well, any self-respectin' person would do that, even if he had to go barefooted the rest of his life. But, what I'm gettin' at is this: Babbitt'll come to me orderin' me to get Leander exempted. And what'll I say?"

Winslow turned and looked at him.

"Seems to me, Sam," he answered, "that if that thing happened there'd be only one thing to say. You'd just have to tell him that you'd listen to his reasons and if they seemed good enough to let the boy off, for your part you'd vote to let him off. If they didn't seem good enough--why--"

"Well--what?"

"Why, then Leander'd have to go to war and his dad could go to--"

"Eh? Go on. I want to hear you say it. Where could he go?"

Jed wiped the surplus paint from his brush on the edge of the can.

"To sellin' hardware," he concluded, gravely, but with a twinkle in his eye.

Captain Sam sniffed, perhaps in disappointment. "His hardware'd melt where I'D tell him to go," he declared. "What you say is all right, Ed. It's an easy doctrine to preach, but, like lots of other preacher's doctrines, it's hard to live up to. Phin loves me like a step-brother and I love him the same way. Well, now here he comes to ask me to do a favor for him. If I don't do it, he'll say, and the whole town'll say, that I'm ventin' my spite on him, keepin' on with my grudge, bein' nasty, cussed, everything that's mean. If I do do it, if I let Leander off, all hands'll say that I did it because I was afraid of Phineas and the rest would say the other thing. It puts me in a devil of a position. It's all right to say, 'Do your duty,' 'Stand up in your shoes,' 'Do what you think's right, never mind whose boy 'tis,' and all that, but I wouldn't have that old skunk goin' around sayin' I took advantage of my position to rob him of his son for anything on earth. I despise him too much to give him that much satisfaction. And yet there I am, and the case'll come up afore me. What'll I do, Jed?

Shall I resign? Help me out. I'm about crazy. Shall I heave up the job? Shall I quit?"

Jed put down the brush and the sailor man. He rubbed his chin.

"No-o," he drawled, after a moment.

"Oh, I shan't, eh? Why not?"

"'Cause you don't know how, Sam. It always seemed to me that it took a lot of practice to be a quitter. You never practiced."

"Thanks. All right, then, I'm to hang on, I suppose, and take my medicine. If that's all the advice you've got to give me, I might as well have stayed at home. But I tell you this, Jed Winslow: If I'd realized--if I'd thought about the Leander Babbitt case comin'

up afore me on that Board I never would have accepted the appointment. When you and I were talkin' here the other night it's queer that neither of us thought of it. . . . Eh? What are you lookin at me like that for? You don't mean to tell me that YOU DID think of it? Did you?"

Winslow nodded.

"Yes," he said. "I thought of it."