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"Spit it out," Davies commanded dryly. "I'll tell you," Habert exploded. "It's Billy Boy. Fifty miles up country and twenty-thousand throat-cutting federals and rebels between him and me. D'ye know what that boy'd do, if he was here in Tampico and I was fifty miles up the Panuco? Well, I know. And I'm going to do the same go and get him." "We're figuring on going up," Wemple assured him.
"Oh, I'm not going to try it, Jake," said little Sol. "Father'd give it to me, if I did. You know the time I fell overboard?" Little Jacob nodded. "Well, then," said little Sol. "I guess a boy'd be foolish to try that twice." Little Jacob nodded again. "Did he thrash you, Sol?" he asked. Little Sol smiled. "Didn't he, though?" he said. "Ever get a thrashing, Jake?" Little Jacob hesitated.
I may come out before daylight and I may stay till doomsday; but come I shan't a single step, not to please even you for whom I'd do and dare a good deal, and don't you doubt it, but when my mind is sot it's sot, and sot it is this minute, an don't you dast to let on to John Benton, or that sassy boy'd plague the very life out of me, and you go right along to your own bed and take Jessie with you, and "
If that's the way of it, it isn't likely I'd be saying a word that would turn her against the man that's laid down for her to marry. There was a friend of my own one time that had a match made up for his son with a girl that had a good fortune. But there was only one leg on her, and he was terrible feared that the boy'd never take her if he found it out.
Her last words was, 'I'll look after the paint, Si. We hadn't but just one little girl then, boy'd died, and Mis' Lapham's mother was livin' with us; and I knew if times DID anyways come up again, m'wife'd know just what to do. So I went. I got through; and you can call me Colonel, if you want to. Feel there!"
"No, in course not that; but will you be thrying him, will he join wid us to rid the counthry of him?" "I tell ye, Joe, he's willing enough to be shut of him entirely, av he knew how." "Oh yes, Pat, I dare say he'd be willing any poor boy'd knock him on the head, and so be rid of him; and av that he who did do it, did be hung for it, what matther in life to him?
Then she sighed: at arms' length she was holding up another pair of yawning socks. "I know it. And look at them, too," she snapped, in growing wrath. "But what's a body goin' to do? The boy'd go half-naked before his father would sense it, with his nose in that paint-box.
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