“Yes,” I answered, impatiently. “What of it?”
“Say, Ros, you and me ain't pulled that Colton trade off, but it ain't my fault. You ain't got no hard feelin's against me, I know. And I want you to do a little mite of favor for me. Will you?”
“What is it? If it has anything to do with the Lane, I tell you now that—”
“It ain't—it ain't. It's about that bookkeepin' job in the bank, Henry Small's place, the one he's just quit. I've got a third cousin, name of Josiah Badger, over to South Harniss. He's a smart young chap, and an A-1 accountant at figgers. He's been keepin' books down at the fish wharf—see? Now, he'd like that job and, bein' as you and George are so thick, I cal'lated maybe you'd sort of use your influence along of George, and—and get it for him. There ain't nothin' in it for me—that is, nothin' much. But I feel friendly toward Josiah and you know I like to do little kindnesses for folks. So—”
“There! there!” I interrupted. “It's no use, Sim. I can't help you.”
“Why! yes you can.”
“No, I can't. I don't know your cousin, and besides—well, you are too late. The place is filled.”
Sim's expression changed. He looked surprised and crestfallen.
“Filled?” he exclaimed. “Why, no, 'tain't! If 'twas I'd have known it, wouldn't I? Who'd you hear had got it? Whoever you heard, 'tain't so.”
“Yes, it is.”