“Huh! mebbe she’d a drove me off. Or mebbe she’d done worse to me,” said the other, quickly. “They beat me again day ’fore yesterday——”
“Who beat you?” demanded Ruth.
“Them Perkinses. Now! don’t you go for to tell I said that. I don’t want to go back to ’em—and their house ain’t such a fur ways from here. If that cook—or any other grown folk—seen me, they’d want to send me back. I know ’em!” exclaimed the girl, bitterly. “But mebbe you’ll be decent about it, and keep your mouth shut.”
“Oh! I won’t tell a soul,” murmured Ruth. “But I’m so sorry. Only dry bread and water—”
“Huh! it’ll keep a feller alive,” said this strangely spoken girl. “I ain’t no softie. Now, you lemme go, will yer? My! but you are strong.”
“I’ll let you go. But I do want to help you. I want to know more about you—all about you. But if Tony comes——”
“That’s his lantern. I see it. He’s a-comin’,” gasped the other, trying to wriggle free.
“Where will you stay to-night?” asked Ruth, anxiously.
“I gotter place. It’s warm and dry. I stayed there las’ night. Come! you lemme go.”
“But I want to help you——”