Jed seemed loath to relinquish the handclasp.
"Oh, don't say good-by; it's just 'See you later,'" he replied.
Leander smiled. "Of course. Well, then, see you later, Jed. We'll write once in a while; eh?"
Jed promised. The young fellow strode off into the dusk. Somehow, with his square shoulders and his tanned, resolute country face, he seemed to typify Young America setting cheerfully forth to face— anything—that Honor and Decency may still be more than empty words in this world of ours.
CHAPTER XIV
The Hunniwell Thanksgiving dinner was an entire success. Even Captain Sam himself was forced to admit it, although he professed to do so with reluctance.
"Yes," he said, with an elaborate wink in the direction of his guests, "it's a pretty good dinner, considerin' everything. Of course 'tain't what a feller used to get down at Sam Coy's eatin'- house on Atlantic Avenue, but it's pretty good—as I say, when everything's considered."
His daughter was highly indignant. "Do you mean to say that this dinner isn't as good as those you used to get at that Boston restaurant, Pa?" she demanded. "Don't you dare say such a thing."
Her father tugged at his beard and looked tremendously solemn.