load of wood? I've got some I want to sell.' 'I need it,' said Sam,
'but I ain't got a cent.' Well, mebbe I'd have trusted him for a load
if he'd asked me, but it occurred to me to stand off an' see how he'd
manage it. It's cold weather now, an' if he don't get it some way, his
family'll go cold. I went by there again at noon-time, but he hadn't
got none yit."

"He's as independent like," said another, "as if he hadn't never been
in jail."

"You're a pack of heartless hogs!" roared the farmer, getting into his
wagon and driving off.

"Can't see that he's any different from the rest of us," muttered one
of the by-standers.

Could the group have known the trouble in the new cobbler's heart, as
he bent all day over his work and thought of the needed wood, their
interest in the subject would have been enhanced. Sam's wife was a
cold-blooded creature; the baby was somewhat ailing; it would not do
for the fire to go out, yet the fuel he had carried in at morn could
not more than last until evening. The little money that had come into
the shop during the day would barely purchase some plain food, of which
there was never in the house a day's supply. He had not the courage to
ask credit for wood; his occasional attempts to "get trusted" had all
failed, no matter how small the article wanted. He looked for Larry
Highgetty, his employer, to beg a small loan, but Larry, though he came
into the shop every morning for his share of the previous day's
earnings, could not be found that afternoon.