Jed’s hand patted the knee sympathetically.

“Sho, sho, sho!” he exclaimed.  “Have you heard from him since?”

“No, I wrote him that I was paying as fast as I could and that if he communicated with my employers that would end any chances of his ever getting more.  He hasn’t written since; afraid of stopping the golden egg supply, I presume. . . .  But there,” he added, “that’s enough of that.  Jed, how could you do it—­just for me?  Of course I had come to realize that your heart was as big as a bushel basket, and that you and I were friends.  But when a fellow gives up four hundred dollars of his own money, and, not only does that, but deliberately confesses himself a thief—­when he does that to save some one else who, as he knew, had really been a thief and who he was pretty sure must have stolen again—­why, Jed, it is unbelievable.  Why did you do it?  What can I say to you?”

Jed held up a protesting hand.

“Don’t say anything,” he stammered.  “Don’t!  It’s—­it’s all foolishness, anyhow.”

“Foolishness!  It’s—­oh, I don’t know what it is!  And to sacrifice your reputation and your character and your friendship with Captain Hunniwell, all for me!  I can’t understand it.”

“Now—­now—­now, Charlie, don’t try to.  If I can’t understand myself more’n half the time, what’s the use of your strainin’ your brains?  I—­I just took a notion, that’s all.  I—­”

“But, Jed, why did you do it—­for me?  I have heard of men doing such things for—­for women, sacrificing themselves to save a woman they were in love with.  You read of that in books and—­yes, I think I can understand that.  But for you to do it—­for me!”

Jed waved both hands this time.  “Sshh! sshh!” he cried, in frantic protest.  His face was a brilliant crimson and his embarrassment and confusion were so acute as to be laughable, although Phillips was far from laughing.  “Sshh, sshh, Charlie,” pleaded Jed.  “You—­ you don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.  You’re makin’ an awful fuss about nothin’.  Sshh!  Yes, you are, too.  I didn’t have any notion of tellin’ Sam I stole that four hundred when I first gave it to him.  I was goin’ to tell him I found it, that’s all.  That would keep him bottled up, I figgered, and satisfied and then—­then you and I’d have a talk and I’d tell you what I’d done and—­well, some day maybe you could pay me back the money; don’t you see?  I do hope,” he added anxiously, “you won’t hold it against me, for thinkin’ maybe you had taken it.  Course I’d ought to have known better.  I would have known better if I’d been anybody but Shavin’s Winslow.  He ain’t responsible.”

“Hush, Jed, hush!  But why did you say you had—­kept it?”