Samuel Reed Kept an Old Wooden Bat Behind the Pantry Door for Twenty Years
Certified.
I did not open it.”
Inside was one page from the treasurer’s office and a figure at the bottom: three thousand four hundred eighty dollars and eleven cents.
Frank read it over my shoulder and let out a breath.
“About what the tractor went for.”
“About,” I said.
“He gets four years and you get a check and a mended fence,” he said.
“There’s no arithmetic in that.”