“You don’t know her name?”
“Never heard it.”
“And Big Rock’s d-dead now?”
“Not by a jugful,” says Pekoe. “I thought he was, and he thought he was goin’ to be, but I got a letter from him a week ago, and he says he got over that sickness, and for me not to take Rock to Wicksville if I hadn’t, and if I had, to git him back again, because he didn’t want the boy to go there while he was alive. He says he didn’t want to be beholdin’ to a man while there was a chance of keepin’ away from it. The way he wrote made me think he had some sort of a grudge ag’in’ this Mr. Wigglesworth.”
“And that’s all you know?”
“Every livin’ thing,” says he.
“All right,” says Mark. “Now we won’t t-talk any more, ’cause Jethro might hear. We’re g-goin’ to git away, and we’ll git you away as soon as we kin. I guess things is g-goin’ to happen around here perty sudden.”
“Hope so,” says Pekoe. “They would happen sudden if Big Rock was to show up.”
“Good-by,” says Mark, “till we see you again.”
“Now,” says I, “let’s figger on how we’re goin’ to escape from the dungeon.”