“I don't believe it,” she cried. “If—if—it can't he HER. Why, she would have told me, I'm sure. Obed, you don't think—”
“I don't know what to think. Heman's been writin' her pretty reg'lar, I know that, 'cause Chris Badger told me so a week after she'd gone. I don't know, Thankful; one thing's sartin, Heman's kept his engagement mighty quiet. How Eben learned of it I don't know, but nobody in East Wellmouth knows, for I've been soundin' ever since I struck here.”
Thankful was greatly troubled. “I HOPE it ain't true,” she cried. “I suppose he's all right, but—but I didn't want Emily to marry him.”
“Neither did I. Perhaps she ain't goin' to. Perhaps it's just a round-the-stove lie, like a shipload of others that's set afloat every day. But, from somethin' John Kendrick said to me on that platform I knew he heard what Eben said.”
“How do you know?”
“'Cause he as much as told me so. 'Is it true?' says he.
“'I don't know,' says I. 'First I'd heard of it, if 'tis.'
“He just nodded his head and seemed to be thinkin'. When he did speak 'twas more to himself than to me. 'Well,' says he, 'then that settles it. I can do it now with a clear conscience.'
“'Do what?' I asked him.
“'Oh, nothin',' he says. 'Cap'n Obed, are you goin' to be busy all day tomorrow? I know it's Christmas, of course; but are you?'