“You f-f-fellows have got to stay here,” says Mark. “Binney and I will g-go. Binney’s got a right to go ’cause it’s his u-uncle, and I got to go to l-look after things.”
There wasn’t any argument about that.
“Jiggins and C-Collins mustn’t discover we’ve gone for a l-long time,” says Mark. “You two have g-g-got to act like four. Make ’em think we’re all h-here. Understand?”
“Sure,” says Tallow and Plunk.
“And when they f-f-find out, don’t tell which way we went.”
“What d’you take us for?” Tallow says.
“We’ll git back as s-s-soon as we can,” Mark told them. “But maybe it’ll be a w-week.”
“We’ll be all right,” says Plunk.
Mark turned to me. “Git that p-pail of paint,” he says, “and the brush. I’ll carry the hammer and a paper of tacks and that chunk of c-c-canvas hangin’ there.”
“What for?” I asked.