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But the gipsies did in a minute. "Oh yes!" they said; "and then fetch the police with a pack of lies about it being your baby instead of ours! D'jever catch a weasel asleep?" they asked. "If you're hungry you can pick a bit along of us," said the light-haired gipsy-woman, not unkindly. "Here Levi, that blessed kid'll howl all his buttons off.
They came to rest on the slight figure of the man and noted his costume. Charlie Bryant was clad in loose riding breeches, but was coatless. Nor did he display any firearms. "Two-man job, isn't it?" he said lightly. "And you guessed to do it single?" Charlie's smile was blandly disarming. "No. I hadn't thought to get it on to-day. The Kid'll be with me to-morrow, or maybe my brother, Bill." "Ah.
Then she let go the horse's head, took the coat off swiftly, and as swiftly replaced it, lining upward. "Thank-you," she said. She glanced over her shoulder. "Will you lead him up and down, while I go and fetch his rug?" she said. "That kid'll be all day." "Rather!" replied the young man, with the fervour of a child to whom a pony has been entrusted for the first time.
But the gipsies did in a minute. 'Oh yes! they said; 'and then fetch the police with a pack of lies about it being your baby instead of ours! D'jever catch a weasel asleep? they asked. 'If you're hungry you can pick a bit along of us, said the light-haired gipsy woman, not unkindly. 'Here, Levi, that blessed kid'll howl all his buttons off.
"You ain't goin' to horn in there, neither. Anyway, we ain't got so darn much the kid'll miss your share, Cash." "Yeah. All the more reason why he'll need it I don't see how you're going to stop me from willing my share where I please. And when you come down to facts, Bud, why you want to recollect that I plumb forgot to report that kid, when I was in town.
"This kid thinks he's smart leading us into a trap. Back we go. Nobody won't draw on us, neither. You go first, Jack. I'll be right next to you with my hands on your shoulders. This smart kid'll foller me the same way. They won't nobody try no gun play for fear of hittin' the kid. Jest as soon as we git out of range we'll make a streak for it, an' the kid'll go with us."
"Twist . . . sir," he answered, precisely in the same manner as the others. "Too long," the mate sneered. "The Kid'll do you. Got that?" "I gotcha . . . sir. Kid Twist'll do me . . . sir." "Kid'll do!" "Kid . . . sir." And the three laughed their silent, mirthless laugh. By this time Mr. Pike was beside himself with a rage that could find no excuse for action.
Probably took him as far as he wanted to, then threw the poor little feller out of the sled into the snow to freeze. All that they'll ever find of that poor little kid'll be an icicle." "I'll bet you're right!" agreed Jimmy, again, vociferously. "This paper says the Judge said some nasty things about Union Labor.
Master Charlie's, are they? I wonder if they're any good." He took one fastidiously. Between two enormous outblowings of smoke he said: "Well, I'm dashed! So Charlie's come with her! I hope the kid'll soon be better... I should have been back long ago, only I took Mrs Chris Hamson home." "Who's Mrs Chris Hamson?" "Don't you know her? She's a ripping woman."
The kid'll be out lookin' fer y', and y' want to take mighty good care of 'er; she's the ole man's pet and he'll kill y' if anything goes wrong with 'er. Keep 'er out about an hour and be partickler careful. Between you and me there's somethin' queer about the kid bein' here; row o' some kind between her pa and ma. Her pa's here sick. Guess all them Congdon's got something wrong with 'em!"
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