“Maybe so,” says Mark.
We heard the engine whistle, and the man hurried off to see about his baggage. The train pulled in and pulled out again and left us sitting on the platform wondering what to do next. Mark stood up slow and tired and yawned till it seemed like his head would come off.
“Fellers,” says he, “you gabble like a lot of geese. Looked like that man was more’n ord’nary interested in engines.”
“’Spose he heard what we was talking about?”
Mark looked at me disgusted. “Tallow,” says he, “don’t go layin’ down in no pastures, ’cause a muley cow ’thout horns’ll come and chaw a hunk out of your p-p-pants.”
“I guess I ain’t so green,” I told him, but he only grinned.
“Let’s go swimmin’,” says Binney.
Mark shook his head and looked solemn. “Go ahead if you want to. No swimmin’ for me; it’s Friday, and I stepped on a spider this mornin’.”
Plunk busted out laughing. “Haw,” he says, “believin’ in signs. I ain’t superstitious.”
Mark looked at him and blinked. “I ain’t superstitious, but I don’t b’lieve in takin’ extra chances. Probably there ain’t nothin’ in it, but you can’t never tell.”