“South Sea Islands,” says I.
He just grunted scornful-like. “Which way would you g-g-go first?”
“Right to the depot,” says I, “and take a train.”
“How’d you pay for your t-ticket? Rock didn’t have a cent.”
That was a facer. “Then I’d steal a ride on a freight,” says I.
“No you wouldn’t,” says he. “You wouldn’t go toward t-town at all. Jethro was watchin’ you close. You had to sneak away in a s-second when he wasn’t lookin’. How’d you m-manage it?”
“Why,” says I, “I’d git near the gate gradual, and then I’d run like the dickens.”
“You wouldn’t, n-n-neither—especial if you wanted to leave a l-letter. I’ll tell you what Rock did. He got hold of p-p-paper and pencil and pocketed ’em. Then he went out in the yard and walked around. You see how he did the other day when we came here first. He hain’t any n-ninny. Well, he’d walk around the yard and after a while he’d c-c-come into this arbor. For t-two reasons. To leave the letter he was goin’ to write, and to get time to hustle off to quite a d-distance before Jethro suspected he was escapin’.”
“How’s that?” says I.
“Why,” says he, “Jethro’d s-see Rock come in here, and he’d think he knew where he was. He wouldn’t come p-pokin’ in to see. So Rock would write his l-letter in a hurry, and scrooch out through the hedge and run. All the t-time Jethro’d be thinkin’ he was right in here. Maybe it would b-be an hour before he’d begin to wonder what Rock was up to so l-long and come in to see. In an hour Rock could move off quite a ways.”