"Seems so to me, Sam."

"Yes. Well, so I said I'd take my Exemption Board job. But when I
said I'd accept it, it didn't run across my mind that Leander
Babbitt was liable to be drafted, first crack out of the box. Now
he IS drafted, and, if I know Phin Babbitt, the old man will be
down on us Board fellers the first thing to get the boy exempted.
AND, I bein' on the Board and hailin' from his own town, Orham
here, it would naturally be to me that he'd come first. Eh?
That's what he'd naturally do, ain't it?"

His friend nodded once more. Captain Sam lost patience.

"Gracious king!" he exclaimed. "Jed Winslow, for thunder sakes say
somethin'! Don't set there bobbin' your head up and down like one
of those wound-up images in a Christmas-time store window. I ask
you if that ain't what Phin Babbitt would do? What would you do if
you was in his shoes?"

Jed rubbed his chin.

"Step out of 'em, I guess likely," he drawled.

"Humph! Yes--well, any self-respectin' person would do that, even
if he had to go barefooted the rest of his life. But, what I'm
gettin' at is this: Babbitt'll come to me orderin' me to get
Leander exempted. And what'll I say?"

Winslow turned and looked at him.