"I was going home. I haven't been home since the war. Didn't you know?
I heard o' George's being here, and came in to see him, but I didn't
think o' you're being here."
"Where have ye been, Perez, all the time? I callated ye must be in
jail, somewheres, like all the rest of the soldiers."
"I had no money to get home with. But how came you here, Reub? Who put
you here?"
"Twas Deacon Nash done it. I tried to start a farm arter the war, and
got in debt to Deacon for seed and stock, and there wasn't no crop,
and the hard times come. I couldn't pay, and the Deacon sued, and so I
lost the farm and had to come here."
"Why didn't father help you? He ain't dead is he?"
Almost any misfortune now seemed possible to Perez.
"No, he ain't dead, but he ain't got nothin. I spose he's sold out by
this time. Sol Gleason had a mortgage on the place."
"How much was your debt, Reub?"
"Nineteen pound, seven shilling and six-pence. 'Leastways, the debt
was nine pound, and the rest was lawyers', justices' and sheriffs'
fees. I callate they'll find them figgers cut into my heart, when I'm
dead."
And then he pointed to the sums in charcoal, covering the walls of the
cell.
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