“Well,” says I, “what’s the word?”
“Wisht he hadn’t showed up so s-s-soon,” says Mark, “I was perty busy before. I wanted t-t-time to think and study on somethin’ else for a while. Now I’ll have to think and s-s-study about how to stop Spragg from gettin’ the best of us, and how to get the b-best of him. Only we’ve got to be fair.”
“Sure,” says I, “but what else did you want to figger on?”
“The Wigglesworth business,” says he. “I wanted to p-p-puzzle out what’s goin’ on, and I wanted to s-sneak out and see that boy and t-talk to him. I bet he knows things Lawyer Jones didn’t get out of him. Boys don’t always tell men all they know.... Well, I’ll just have to f-f-find time to do both.”
“We’ll help all we can,” says I. “Maybe we’ll be some good.”
“Now don’t go gettin’ sore,” says Mark. “I hain’t ever slighted you yet, have I? Eh? When anythin’ was g-goin’ on you got plenty to do, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” says I.
“Well,” says he, “more l-likely you’ll get more ’n you want to do this time.... I do wisht I could figger out where that boy comes in. Rock’s his name. What’s he got to do with Henry Wigglesworth? Why didn’t Mr. Wigglesworth speak to him at all? Remember Lawyer Jones said he didn’t. Then what m-m-made Mr. Wigglesworth come s-sneakin’ in at night to look at him? That’s the hardest of all. He could see the b-boy all day. What for did he want to be p-p-prowlin’ in with a lamp to look at him at night? It’s all mixed up. But you can bet there’s s-somethin’ behind it all that’ll m-make a dandy newspaper story when we get to the b-b-bottom of it.”
“Maybe we won’t,” says I.
He turned on me quick. “We will,” says he, “or bust.”