“Where are you goin’ to sell?”
Smith eyed her inscrutable face suspiciously.
“You’re askin’ lots of questions, girl. I tips my hand too far to no petticoat. You trusts me or you don’t. Will you come in?”
“All right,” said Susie after a silence; “I’ll come in—‘just for the hell of it.’”
“Shake!”
She looked at his extended hand and wrapped her own in her blanket.
“There’s no call to shake.”
“Is your heart mixed, Susie?” he demanded. “Ain’t it right toward me?”
“It’ll be right enough when the time comes,” she answered.
The reply did not satisfy Smith, but he told himself that, once she was committed, he could manage her, for, after all, Susie was little more than a child. Smith felt uncommonly pleased with himself for his bold stroke.