Thankful's Inheritance Part 49

"I ain't crazy," declared Captain Obed. "I can see you think I am, but I ain't. Thankful, I--Oh, thunderation! What is the matter with me?

Thankful, let ME take care of you, will you?"

Thankful rose to her feet. "Obed Bangs!" she exclaimed.

"I mean it. I've been meanin' it more and more ever since I first met you, but I ain't had the s.p.u.n.k to say it. Now I'm goin' to say it if I keel over on the last word. Thankful, why don't you marry me?"

Thankful was speechless. The captain plunged desperately on.

"Will you, Thankful?" he begged. "I know I'm an old codger, but I ain't in my second childhood, not yet. I--I'd try mighty hard to make you happy. I haven't got anybody of my own in the world. Neither have you--except this brother of yours, and, judgin' from his letter and what you say, HE won't take any care; he'll BE a care, that's all. I ain't rich, but I've got money enough to help you--and him--and me afloat and comf'table. Thankful, will you?"

Thankful was still looking at him. He would have spoken again, but she raised her hand and motioned him to silence.

"Obed," she asked, after a moment, "what made you say this to me?"

"What made me say it? What kept me still so long, you ought to ask.

Haven't I come to think more and more of you ever since I knew you?

Haven't I been more and more sorry for you? And pitied you? I--"

She raised her hand again. "I see," she said, slowly. "I see. Thank you, Obed. You're so kind and self-sacrificin' you'd do anything or say anything to help a--friend, wouldn't you? But of course you can't do this."

"Can't? Why can't I? Self-sacrifice be hanged! Thankful, can't you see--"

"Yes. Oh yes. I can see. . . . Now let's talk about Jedediah. Do you think--"

"Jedediah be keelhauled! Will you marry me, Thankful Barnes?"

"Why no, Obed; of course I won't."

"You won't? Why not?"

"Because--well, because I--I can't. There, there, Obed! Please don't ask me again. Please don't!"

Captain Obed did not ask. He did not speak again for what, to Mrs.

Barnes, seemed a long, long time. At length she could bear it no longer.

"PLEASE, Obed," she begged.

The captain slowly shook his head. Then he laughed a short, mirthless laugh.

"What an old fool I am!" he muttered. "What an old fool!"

"Obed, don't talk so! Don't! Do you want to make this--everything--harder for me?"

He straightened and squared his shoulders.

"Thank you, Thankful," he said, earnestly. "Thank you for sayin' that.

That's the way to talk to me. I know I'm an old fool, but I won't be any more, if I can help it. Make it harder for you? I guess not!"

"Obed, I'm so sorry."

"Sho! sho! You needn't be. . . . I'm all right. I've been dreamin'

foolish dreams, like a young feller after a church picnic dinner, but I'm awake now. Yes'm, I'm awake. Now just you forget that I talked in my sleep. Forget the whole of it and let's get back to--to that brother of yours. We've got to locate him, that's the first thing to be done. I'll send a telegram right off to that Kelly man out in 'Frisco askin' if what's-his-name--Jedediah--is there yet."

"Obed, you won't--you won't feel hard towards me? You won't let--this--interfere with our friends.h.i.+p?"

"Sho! Hush, hush, Thankful! You make me more ashamed of myself than ever, and that ain't necessary. Now the first thing is to send that telegram. If we locate your brother then we'll send him a ticket to Boston and some money. Don't you worry, Thankful; we'll get him here.

And don't you fret about the money neither. I'll 'tend to that and you can pay me afterwards."

"No, no; of course I shan't let--"

"Yes, you will. There's some things you can't stop and that's one of 'em. You talked about our friends.h.i.+p, didn't you? Well, unless you want me to believe I ain't your friend, you'll let me run my own course this time. So long, Thankful; I'm off to Chris Badger's to send that telegram."

He s.n.a.t.c.hed up his cap and was on his way to the door. She followed him.

"Obed," she faltered, "I--I--What CAN I say to you? You are SO good!"

"Tut! tut! Me good? Don't let Heman Daniels hear you say that. He's a church deacon and knows what goodness is. So long, Thankful. Soon's I hear from Kelly, I'll report."

He hurried from the house. Thankful watched him striding down the path.

Not once did he hesitate or look back. She turned from the door and, returning to her chair by the center table, sat down. For a moment she sat there and then, leaning her head upon her arms on the table, wept tears of absolute loneliness and despair.

The telegram to Michael Kelly of San Francis...o...b..ought an answer, but a most unsatisfactory one. Jedediah Cahoon had not been in the Kelly employ for more than six weeks. Kelly did not know where he had gone and, apparently, did not care. Captain Obed then wired and wrote the San Francisco police officials, urging them to trace the lost one. This they promised to do, but nothing came of it. The weeks pa.s.sed and no word from them or from Jedediah himself was received. His letter had come to prove that, at the time it was written, he was alive; whether or not he was still alive, or where he might be if living, was as great a mystery as ever. Day after day Thankful watched and waited and hoped, but her waiting was unrewarded, and, though she still hoped, her hope grew steadily fainter; and the self-reproach and the worry greater in proportion.

She and Georgie and Imogene spent Thanksgiving Day alone. Heman Daniels and Mr. Hammond were invited out and Captain Obed, who had meant to eat his Thanksgiving dinner at the High Cliff House, was called to Boston on business connected with his fish selling, and could not return in time.

Early in December Thankful once more drove to Trumet to call upon Solomon Cobb. The question of the renewal of the mortgage she felt must remain a question no longer. But she obtained little satisfaction from her talk with the money-lender. Mr. Cobb's first remark concerned the Holliday Kendrick offer to buy the "Cap'n Abner place."

"Did he mean it, do you think?" he demanded. "Is he really so sot on buyin' as folks say he is?"

"I'm afraid so."

"Huh! And he's hired his lawyer--that young cousin of his--Bailey Kendrick's son--to make you sell out to him?"

"Yes."

"What's the young feller done about it; anything?"

"No; nothin' that I know of."

"Humph! Sure of that, be ye? I hear he's been spendin' consider'ble time over to Ostable lately, hangin' round the courthouse, and the probate clerk's office. Know what he's doin' that for?"

"No, I didn't know he had. How did you know it?"

"I knew. Ain't much goin' on that I don't know; I make it my business to know. Why don't you sell out to old Holliday?"

"I don't want to sell. My boardin'-house has just got a good start and why should I give it up? I won't sell."

"Oh, you won't! Pretty independent for anybody with a mortgage hangin'

over 'em, ain't ye?"