"Then don't think, Bo," interrupted Horatio, gently. "You are only a little boy. I will do the thinking for this firm. Now for a song, Bo, to soothe us."
So then they played and sang softly together while the moon rose and the fire died out, and the boy poured the money from hand to hand, lovingly.
"Bosephus," said his companion, as they paused, "were those people you lived with nice people? Nice fat people, I mean?"
"Not very. Old Mr. Sugget might have been pretty fat if he'd had more to eat, but Mis' Sugget wasn't made to get fat, I know. It wasn't her build."
"It was the old man that abused you, wasn't it?"
"Well, mostly."
"Knocked you about and half starved you?"
"Sometimes, but then——"
"Wait, please. I have an idea. When we get our bear colony started we'll invite this Sugget party to visit us. We'll feed him—all he can eat. By and by, when he gets fat—how long do you suppose it will take him to get fat, Bo? Fat enough, I mean?"
"Fat enough for what?" shivered Bo.