“It isn’t that,” Jessie told him, trying to keep her lips from quivering, “but—Joe has gone.”
“What!”
Jessie repeated the statement.
“Pshaw! Now, that’s too bad!” Mr. Wilson exclaimed, rubbing his hair upright, as he always did when perplexed. “Wal’, I don’t know when I’ve heard anything more surprising,” he continued, when Jessie had detailed the manner of Joe’s disappearance to him; “I’d a banked on that old man to the last breath o’ life. And he’s gone! Appearances are all-fired deceivin’, that’s so, but don’t you grieve over it, girls; it’ll all come out all right in the end. The old man has stayed right by you and helped you good since your pa was taken, but we must remember that he never was in the habit of tyin’ himself down to one place before this, and, more’n likely’s not, his old, rovin’ habits have suddenly proved too strong fer him, and he’s jest lit out because he couldn’t stan’ the pressure any longer.”
“But Joe is so faithful; he has always been just like one of the family, and he knows so well how badly we need him,” I objected; “it does not seem possible for him to have deserted us.”
“Desert is a purty ha’sh word, Miss Leslie. There’s some mystery about it, take my word for it. Joe’ll be back again, and when he comes I’ll guarantee that he’ll be able to give some good reason for going away.”
Jessie shook her head, tearfully. “I don’t believe he will ever come back,” she said.
“Wal’, s’pose he doesn’t? I reckon you two ain’t goin’ to let go your grip on that account. But troubles do seem to kind o’ thicken around you! That’s so.”
He paused a moment, musing over our troubles, and Ralph took advantage of his silence to call his attention to the kitten with which one of the neighbors had presented him to the jealous torment of his old playfellow, the big cat: “My new tat tan wink wiv bof he eyes, see?” he proclaimed, holding the animal up for inspection.
“Yes, yes, I see, little feller,” was the absent reply.