When the writing materials were brought and placed upon the dining-room table he drew his chair to that table and scrawled a few lines.
“Somebody ought to witness this,” he cried, nervously. “Some disinterested person ought to witness this. Then 'twill hold in law. Where's that—that Howes girl? Oh, here you be! Here! you sign that as a witness.”
Emily, who had entered at the mention of her name, took the paper from his trembling fingers. She read what was written upon it.
“Why—why, Auntie!” she cried, excitedly. “Aunt Thankful, have you seen this? He—”
“Stop your talk!” shouted Solomon. “Can't you women do nothin' BUT talk? Sign your name alongside of mine as a witness.”
Emily took the pen and signed as directed. Mr. Cobb snatched the paper from her, glanced at it and then handed it to Thankful.
“There!” he cried. “That's done, anyhow. I've done so much. Now—now don't say a word to me for a spell. I—I'm all in; that's what I am, all in.”
Thankful did not say a word; she couldn't have said it at that moment. Upon the paper which she held in her hand was written a cancellation of the fifteen-hundred-dollar mortgage and a receipt in full for the loan itself, signed by Solomon Cobb.
Dimly and uncomprehendingly she heard Emily trying to thank their visitor. But thanks he would not listen to.
“No, no, no!” he shouted. “Go away and let me alone. I'm a wicked, condemned critter. Nobody's ever cared a durn for me, nobody but one, and I broke my word to him. Friendless I've lived since Abner went and friendless I'll die. Serve me right. I ain't got a livin' soul of my own blood in the world.”