Even Captain Obed had not a word to say. He was looking at John Kendrick and John's face was white.
“And I'll tell you somethin' else,” went on Thankful, “somethin' that Emily herself told me last night. She might have been engaged to Heman Daniels; he asked her to be. But she wouldn't have him; she told him no.”
John stepped from behind the desk. “She—she told him no,” he repeated. “She . . . Why?”
Thankful laughed aloud. “That,” she cried, “I SHAN'T tell you. If you don't know yourself then I ain't the one to tell you.”
Obed was at her side. “That's enough,” he ordered, taking her by the arm. “That's enough, Thankful Barnes. You come right along with me and fetch that deed with you. This young feller here has got some thinkin' to do, I cal'late. His mind needs overhaulin'. You come with me.”
He led her out to the sidewalk and on until they reached the postoffice. Then, still grasping her arm, he led her into that building. The office was open for a few hours, even though the day was Christmas.
“Here!” he whispered, eagerly. “Stand here by the window where we can see whether he comes out or not.”
“But, Obed, what are you doin'?”
“Doin'! I'm waitin' to see whether that boy is a permanent fool or just a temporary one. Wait now; wait and watch.”
The wait was but momentary. The door of John Kendrick's office opened and John himself came out. He shut the door, but he did not wait to lock it. They saw him cross the road and stride off down the lane toward the shore.