e
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.

"It is--it is so, Sam," he drawled. "But maybe that makes it a
little more worth while. What do you think?"

His friend regarded him thoughtfully. "Jed," he said, "I never saw
anybody who had the faculty of seein' straight through to the
common sense inside of things the way you have. Maud and I were
talkin' about that last night. 'Go home and think and thank God,'
you said to me. And that was what I needed to do. 'Enlist and
you'll be independent,' you said to Charlie and it set him on the
road. 'Stick to your job and grin,' you say now. How do you do
it, Jed? Remember one time I told you I couldn't decide whether
you was a dum fool or a King Solomon? I know now. Of the two of
us I'm nigher to bein' the dum fool; and, by the gracious king, you
ARE a King Solomon."

Jed slowly shook his head. "Sam," he said, sadly, "if you knew
what I know about me you'd . . . but there, you're talkin' wild. I
was cal'latin' to have a cup of tea and you'd better have one, too.
I'm heatin' some water on top of the stove now. It must be about
ready."

He lifted the saucepan from the top of the "gas burner" and tested
the water with his finger.

"Hum," he mused, "it's stone cold. I can't see why it hasn't het
faster. I