Andy’s head fell on his broad chest, and Jack believed he saw his frame quiver with some sort of gathering emotion.
“He has made his will, and left you everything, Andy,” he continued. “If you are to be married, that will be your home. He begged us to find you, to tell you all this; and that if you would only come back to forgive him, he would die happy. Won’t you do that, Andy? Once he goes, the chance can never come to you again; and you’re bound to feel mighty sorry as the years go by.”
Nick nudged George, and whispered.
“Did you ever hear the beat of that, George? Ain’t our Jack the born lawyer though? He ought to be in your dad’s office, studying for the bar, that’s what.”
“Hold your horses, Buster!” answered the one addressed, eagerly waiting to see what effect Jack’s logic might have upon Andy.
The struggle however was short. Presently the young fisherman glanced up; and as soon as he could see the look on his bronzed face Jack knew his case was won.
“I’ll go back to the old man,” he said, firmly. “I guess ’taint right he shud die and not have a chance to say what’s on his mind. And thank ye for tellin’ me.”
“But when will you go?” Jack continued. “There is need of haste, because nobody can say just how long he may live.”
“A boat’ll be along this arternoon, and we ship some barrels on her. Guess the boss’ll let me off when he larns the reason,” Andy replied.
“If you like, I’ll tell him the whole story?” Jack suggested.