“No.  He left it with Miss Emily.”

“That’s a mercy.  The outdoor air may make Sol feel more rational and soon’s he came to his senses, he’d want that dollar back.  Tut! tut! tut!  Don’t talk to me!  I shall believe in ghosts pretty soon.”

Thankful looked troubled and annoyed.

“I’m awful sorry he went,” she said.  “The poor old thing!  He was so miserable I did pity him.  I must drive over and see him tomorrow, sure.  But what makes me feel the worst,” she added, “is to think of Jedediah’s cruisin’ up to the village dressed in the rags he was wearin’.  He looked like—­like somethin’ the cat brought in.  And everybody’ll want to know who he is; and when they find he’s my brother!  And on Christmas Day, too!”

“Imogene!” it was Emily’s voice.  “Imogene, where are you?”

Captain Obed roared a greeting.

“Merry Christmas, all hands,” he shouted.  “Hey, you, John Kendrick; are you there?”

There was no answer.  Thankful did not wait for one; she rushed into the house.  John Kendrick was alone in the living-room when she reached it.  Emily had fled.  Thankful looked at Mr. Kendrick and the look gave her the information she wanted.

“Oh, Mr. Kendrick—­John,” she cried.  “I shall call you John now; I can, can’t I—­where is she?”

John smiled.  He looked ready to smile at all creation.  “I think she is upstairs,” he said.  “At least she ran in that direction when she heard the captain call.”

Thankful started for the hall and the stairs.  At the door she turned.

“Don’t you go away, John,” she ordered.  “Don’t you dare go away from this house.  You’re goin’ to have dinner here this day, if you never do again.”

John, apparently, had no intention of going away.  He smiled once more and walked toward the dining-room.  Captain Obed met him at the threshold.

“Well?” shouted the captain.  “Well?  What have you got to say for yourself now, eh?”

John laughed.  “Not much, Captain,” he answered, “not much, except that I’ve been an idiot.”

“Yup.  All right.  But that ain’t what I want to know.  I want to know—­” he stopped and gazed keenly at his friend’s face.  “I don’t know’s I do want to know, either,” he added.  “I cal’late I know it already.  When a young feller stands around looking as sheepish as if he’d been caught stealin’ hens’ eggs and grinnin’ at the same time as if he was proud of it, then—­then there’s just one thing happened to him.  I cal’late you’ve found out why she wouldn’t marry Heman Daniels, eh?  My, but I’m glad!  You don’t deserve it, but I’m glad just the same.  Let’s shake hands again.”

They were still shaking and the captain was crowing like a triumphant rooster over his friend’s good fortune and the humiliation in store for the “tattle-tales and character-naggers” among his fellow-townsmen when Imogene appeared.

“Is Mrs. Thankful here?” she asked.  “Well, never mind.  You’ll do, Cap’n Bangs.  Will you and Mr. Kendrick come out here to the back door a minute?  I’d like to have you witness somethin’.”