"I mean that wan't my whole reason for tellin' Leander he'd better
volunteer, better go up to Boston and enlist, same as he did. That
was part, but 'twan't all."

Captain Sam's eyes and mouth opened. He stared at the speaker in
amazement.

"You told him to volunteer?" he repeated. "You told him to go to
Boston and-- YOU did? What on earth?"

Jed's brush moved slowly down the wooden legs of his sailor man.

"Leander and I are pretty good friends," he explained. "I like him
and he--er--hum--I'm afraid that paint's kind of thick. Cal'late
I'll have to thin it a little."

Captain Sam condemned the paint to an eternal blister.

"Go on! go on!" he commanded. "What about you and Leander? Finish
her out. Can't you see you've got my head whirlin' like one of
those windmills of yours? Finish her OUT!"

Jed looked over his spectacles.

"Oh!" he said. "Well, Leander's been comin' in here pretty
frequent and we've talked about his affairs a good deal. He's
always wanted to enlist ever since the war broke out."

"He HAS?"