Phil’s face lit up with a pleasant smile.
“Sam, it’s awful good of you!” he exclaimed impulsively.
“Oh, I’m always willing to do a favor when I can,” nonchalantly, seeming to be utterly forgetful of all that Phil had done for him; unmindful that at this very moment he was smoking Phil’s tobacco, warming himself at Phil’s fire, and this moment contemplating the eating of the food of Phil’s providing. His manner of speaking would imply that this was but one more of many benefits of his conferring.
As Phil was leaving to go to his father, Sam said:
“I’ll take good care of everything for you.”
“All right! thanks, and good-by!” called Phil heartily.
Phil’s father was very much surprised to see him; no message had been sent; and he was well but none the less glad to see Phil.
Phil wrote to Sam at once, but as he received no reply wrote again and again.
He did not need money, as his father had given him more than enough, but he feared that some ill had befallen his friend.
As Phil left the stagecoach on his return home, three months later, he at once sought Mollie; he had received no letter from her during his absence, although he had repeatedly written. He knocked, and Mollie herself opened the door. Phil reached out his hand in glad greeting; she drew back coldly.