"Oh, the doing; the figuring is usually easy enough--too easy.But the doing is different.The average fellow is afraid.I don't suppose you would be, Jed.I can imagine you doing almost anything if you thought it was right, and hang the consequences."Jed looked aghast."Who? Me?" he queried."Good land of love, don't talk that way, Charlie! I'm the scarest critter that lives and the weakest-kneed, too, 'most generally.But--but, all the same, I do believe the best thing, and the easiest in the end, not only for you--or me--but for all hands, is to take the bull by the horns and heave the critter, if you can.There may be an awful big trouble, but big or little it'll be over and done with.THAT bull won't be hangin' around all your life and sneakin' up astern to get you--and those you--er--care for....Mercy me, how I do preach!
They'll be callin' me to the Baptist pulpit, if I don't look out.
I understand they're candidatin'."
His friend drew a long breath."There is a poem that I used to read, or hear some one read," he observed, "that fills the bill for any one with your point of view, I should say.Something about a fellow's not being afraid to put all his money on one horse, or the last card--about his not deserving anything if he isn't afraid to risk everything.Wish I could remember it."Jed looked up from the lathe.
"'He either fears his fate too much, Or his deserts are small, Who dares not put it to the touch To win or lose it all.'
That's somethin' like it, ain't it, Charlie?" he asked.
Phillips was amazed."Well, I declare, Winslow," he exclaimed, "you beat me! I can't place you at all.Whoever would have accused you of reading poetry--and quoting it."Jed rubbed his chin."I don't know much, of course," he said, "but there's consider'ble many poetry books up to the library and I like to read 'em sometimes.You're liable to run across a--er--poem--well, like this one, for instance--that kind of gets hold of you.
It fills the bill, you might say, as nothin' else does.There's another one that's better still.About--'Once to every man and nation Comes the moment to decide.
Do you know that one?"
His visitor did not answer.After a moment he swung himself from the workbench and turned toward the door.
"'He either fears his fate too much,'" he quoted, gloomily.
"Humph! I wonder if it ever occurred to that chap that there might be certain kinds of fate that COULDN'T be feared too much?...
Well, so long, Jed.Ah hum, you don't know where I can get hold of some money, do you?"Jed was surprised."Humph!" he grunted."I should say you HADhold of money two-thirds of every day.Feller that works in a bank is supposed to handle some cash.""Yes, of course," with an impatient laugh, "but that is somebody else's money, not mine.I want to get some of my own.""Sho!...Well, I cal'late I could let you have ten or twenty dollars right now, if that would be any help to you.""It wouldn't; thank you just the same.If it was five hundred instead of ten, why--perhaps I shouldn't say no."Jed was startled.
"Five hundred?" he repeated."Five hundred dollars? Do you need all that so very bad, Charlie?"Phillips, his foot upon the threshold of the outer shop, turned and looked at him.
"The way I feel now I'd do almost anything to get it," he said, and went out.
Jed told no one of this conversation, although his friend's parting remark troubled and puzzled him.In fact it troubled him so much that at a subsequent meeting with Charles he hinted to the latter that he should be glad to lend the five hundred himself.
"I ought to have that and some more in the bank," he said."Sam would know whether I had or not....Eh? Why, and you would, too, of course.I forgot you know as much about folks' bank accounts as anybody....More'n some of 'em do themselves, bashfulness stoppin' me from namin' any names," he added.
Charles looked at him."Do you mean to tell me, Jed Winslow," he said, "that you would lend me five hundred dollars without any security or without knowing in the least what I wanted it for?""Why--why, of course.'Twouldn't be any of my business what you wanted it for, would it?""Humph! Have you done much lending of that kind?""Eh?...Um....Well, I used to do consider'ble, but Sam he kind of put his foot down and said I shouldn't do any more.But Idon't HAVE to mind him, you know, although I generally do because it's easier--and less noisy," he added, with a twinkle in his eye.
"Well, you ought to mind him; he's dead right, of course.You're a good fellow, Jed, but you need a guardian."Jed shook his head sadly."I hate to be so unpolite as to call your attention to it," he drawled, "but I've heard somethin' like that afore.Up to now I ain't found any guardian that needs me, that's the trouble.And if I want to lend you five hundred dollars, Charlie, I'm goin' to.Oh, I'm a divil of a feller when Iset out to be, desperate and reckless, I am."Charlie laughed, but he put his hand on Jed's shoulder, "You're a brick, I know that," he said, "and I'm a million times obliged to you.But I was only joking; I don't need any five hundred.""Eh?...You don't?...Why, you said--""Oh, I--er--need some new clothes and things and I was talking foolishness, that's all.Don't you worry about me, Jed; I'm all right."But Jed did worry, a little, although his worry concerning the young man's need of money was so far overshadowed by the anxiety caused by his falling in love with Maud Hunniwell that it was almost forgotten.That situation was still as tense as ever.Two-thirds of Orham, so it seemed to Jed, was talking about it, wondering when the engagement would be announced and speculating, as Gabe Bearse had done, on Captain Sam's reception of the news.
The principals, Maud and Charles, did not speak of it, of course--neither did the captain or Ruth Armstrong.Jed expected Ruth to speak; he was certain she understood the situation and realized its danger; she appeared to him anxious and very nervous.It was to him, and to him alone--her brother excepted--she could speak, but the days passed and she did not.And it was Captain Hunniwell who spoke first.
