Page:Frank Owen - Rare Earth, 1931.djvu/116

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Rare Earth


"'Eaps?" repeated Jethro. "'Eaps? What does that mean?"

"Don' yer see? 'Eaps because 'e eats so much. 'E eats 'eaps."

"Not bad," commented Jethro.

"Why should it be bad?" demanded Samuel Gage. "'E's a good 'orse."

Jethro was thankful for the interlude of small talk. It bridged an awkward silence which might have preceded the real reason for his visit. But after continuing talking about the horses for awhile longer he steered the conversation around to Linda Joel and her farm that was now tumbling into ruin, the farm that had never been out of the mind of Jethro Trent since he had heard about it.

"Too bad about that Linda Joel of whom you were telling me the other day," he mused.

"Pathetic case," agreed Samuel Gage. "Nice old lady, too. She sure do miss Enoch. 'E was a won'erful kid. She never grows tired talkin' o"im. I stops at 'er place now and then to talk with 'er awhile. Guess the old gal's

purty lonely with not many friends nor

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