They started to come back our way. I could hear them coming closer and closer. Right in front of our door they stopped, and Hamilcar says:
“What d’you calc’late I got in here, mister?”
“Hams,” says Jehoshaphat, sharp-like.
“No,” says Hamilcar. “Boys.”
“Boys!”
“Two of ’em. Fat one and thin one. Caught ’em stealin’ apples. Grabbed ’em by the collars. Shoved ’em in the smoke-house. Good idee. Teach ’em a lesson. Scare ’em some. Bet they’ll keep out of my orchard after this.”
“Should have given ’em a lickin’,” says Skip.
“Uh-uh, mister. Never licked a hoss nor a boy. ’Tain’t good trainin’. Mister, I calc’late you hain’t got no boy.”
“No,” says Skip, “and I hain’t hankerin’ after one.”
“There, you see! Well, mister, I hain’t got no boy, either, nor no wife, nor no folks of any kind. But I’d like a boy. Yes, sir, I’d like two of ’em. But I wouldn’t lick ’em, mister. There’s other ways and better ways.... Want to take a look at these fellers?”