“‘Give us a tune, Jobe.’”
Jobe went around to all the stores in town and to all his friends and tried to git gold for the paper money, and not one of them had a dollar in gold to help him out with. Everybody said they “hadent seen any gold for a long time;” that “paper money was good enough for them; that they was glad to git even it, these times.”
So Jobe come home, and he haint got that gold yit, and the Lord only knows when and where he can git it. I dont.
Jobe he is nearly distracted.
Now, if the law makes Jobe take Billot’s paper money for wheat, I dont see why the same law wont make the banker take the same paper money for interest, especially when a feller cant git any other kind. If the banker wont take Jobe’s paper money, all I know is for him to go on with his lawsuit to foreclose us—until the court makes him take it.
We cant do anything else. It jist seems the world is full of trouble and sich.
“‘This is not accordin to contract.’”
CHAPTER XXXII.
AT COURT AGAIN.
THE lawsuit to foreclose us out of our home is bein tried to-day. We borrowed Ike Hill’s gray mare and driv to town airly, and found the lawyers hangin around like buzzards waitin for the arrival of a dead beast.