“What time is it?”
“Half past six.”
Mark thought and pinched his cheek. “That g-gives us two hours and a half,” says he. “Come on, Binney. Will s-s-somebody show us the road?”
“Ay tank ay show you,” says Ole.
“Ay tank ay show you, too,” says Jerry.
“Come on, then,” Mark says, quick. “We can’t l-lose any time.”
We said good-by to Mr. Hogtoter, and I told him I hoped he wouldn’t have any bad luck. He said he was expecting some every minnit, and he said, too, he was sure we were in for some.
“Be careful,” says he. “Not that bein’ careful is any good. If you’re goin’ to have misfortune, takin’ care don’t help a bit. Never helped me. Looks to me like Hieronymous was in for misfortune.”
We climbed the bank with Ole and Jerry, and, not having either time or breath to say anything, we made off across the fields toward the road without any talk. It was maybe a quarter of a mile.
“You find Scottville now, ay tank,” says Ole.