“Nothin'. Nothin' much, I guess. Abner and me was sort of—sort of chums and I didn't know but he might have said—might have told you considerable about me. He didn't, hey?”
“No. He told me you was his mate, that's all.”
It may have been Thankful's imagination, but it did seem as if her relative was a trifle relieved. But even yet he did not seem quite satisfied. He pulled at his whiskers and asked another question.
“What made you come here to me?” he asked.
“Mercy on us! I've told you that, haven't I? I came to see about gettin' a mortgage on his old place over to East Wellmouth. I knew you took mortgages—at least folks said you did—and bein' as you was a relation I thought—”
A wave of the hand interrupted her.
“Yes, yes,” broke in Solomon, hastily. “I know that. Was that the only reason?”
“I presume likely 'twas. I did think it was a natural one and reason enough, but I guess THAT was a mistake. It looks as if 'twas.”
She made a move to rise, but he leaned forward and detained her.
“There! there!” he said. “Set still, set still. So you're Abner Barnes' niece?”