It was a moment before Jed answered.  Then all he said was, “Yes.”

“I mean have you done it lately?  Just given yourself right up to doin’ it?”

Jed sighed.  “Ye-es,” he drawled.  “I shouldn’t wonder if I had, Sam.”

“Well, probably ‘twan’t as disturbin’ a job with you as ’twas for me.  You didn’t have as high a horse to climb down off of.  I thought and thought and thought and the more I thought the meaner the way I’d acted and talked to Maud seemed to me.  I liked Charlie; I’d gone around this county for months braggin’ about what a smart, able chap he was.  As I told you once I’d rather have had her marry him than anybody else I know.  And I had to give in that the way he’d behaved—­his goin’ off and enlistin’, settlin’ that before he asked her or spoke to me, was a square, manly thing to do.  The only thing I had against him was that Middleford mess.  And I believe he’s a good boy in spite of it.”

“He is, Sam.  That Middleford trouble wan’t all his fault, by any means!”

“I know.  He told me this mornin’.  Well, then, if he and Maud love each other, thinks I, what right have I to say they shan’t be happy, especially as they’re both willin’ to wait?  Why should I say he can’t at least have his chance to make good?  Nigh’s I could make out the only reason was my pride and the big plans I’d made for my girl.  I came out of my thinkin’ spell with my mind made up that what ailed me was selfishness and pride.  So I talked it over with her last night and with Charlie to-day.  The boy shall have his chance.  Both of ’em shall have their chance, Jed.  They’re happy and—­well, I feel consider’ble better myself.  All else there is to do is to just hope to the Lord it turns out right.”

“That’s about all, Sam.  And I feel pretty sure it’s goin’ to.”

“Yes, I know you do.  Course those big plans of mine that I used to make—­her marryin’ some rich chap, governor or senator or somethin’—­they’re all gone overboard.  I used to wish and wish for her, like a young-one wishin’ on a load of hay, or the first star at night, or somethin’.  But if we can’t have our wishes, why—­why—­ then we’ll do without ’em.  Eh?”

Jed rubbed his chin.  “Sam,” he said, “I’ve been doin’ a little thinkin’ myself. . . .  Ye-es, consider’ble thinkin’. . . .  Fact is, seems now as if I hadn’t done anything but think since the world was cranked up and started turnin’ over.  And I guess there’s only one answer.  When we can’t have our wishes then it’s up to us to—­to—­”

“Well, to what?”

“Why, to stick to our jobs and grin, that’s about all.  ’Tain’t much, I know, especially jobs like some of us have, but it’s somethin’.”

Captain Sam nodded.  “It’s a good deal, Jed,” he declared.  “It’s some stunt to grin—­in these days.”

Jed rose slowly to his feet.  He threw back his shoulders with the gesture of one determined to rid himself of a burden.