This book from 1951 sat at the thrift store for about five weeks. It was somewhat unique, as it had the same title as one of John Grisham’s earlier novels, one that I read many years ago. This one had a battered dust jacket that I fixed.
It sat, week after week, even after its blue sticker was the non-sale tag a second time, so it went through the entire sale tag cycle at the ARC thrift.
I finally bought it for several reasons: I’ve been reading a lot of old books lately; it isn’t very long, it is a genre that I like, and nobody else wanted it. I saved a book. Obviously, I can’t save every book, but this one? Okay.
