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. I don'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