“Lord bless you, son!” said she, the words catching in her throat, tears rising to her eyes and standing so heavy that she must wipe them away.
“It will all be settled next week,” Joe told her confidently.
“I hope they won’t put it off no more,” said she wearily.
“No; Hammer says they’re sure to go ahead this time.”
“Ollie drove over yesterday evening and brought your things from Isom’s,” said she, lifting the bundle from the floor, forcing it to him between the bars. “I brought you a couple of clean shirts, for I knew you’d want one for tomorrow.”
“Yes, Mother, I’m glad you brought them,” said Joe.
“Ollie, she said she never would make you put in the rest of your time there if she had anything to say about it. But she said if Judge Little got them letters of administration he was after she expected he’d try to hold us to it, from what he said.”
“No matter, Mother.”
“And Ollie said if she ever did come into Isom’s property she’d make us a deed to our place.”
Mrs. Newbolt’s face bore a little gleam of hope when she told him this. Joe looked at her kindly.