“Looks some lower ’n he did awhile back,” says I.
“Um!...” says Mark. “Now look here, mister. Us boys started out to run a square, h-honest business. We’re operatin’ a novelty-mill. Your boss is t-tryin’ to bust our mill because he wants our dam and won’t p-pay for it. You’re helpin’ him. That’s why you’re after George Piggins. Now we didn’t put you in that well, and you can’t do us no harm while you’re down there. I guess the b-best plan for us is to l-leave you there.”
Mr. Man began to blubber and bleat and roar, but Mark didn’t pay a bit of attention.
“Let’s go to town,” says he. “I don’t f-f-figger there’s much danger of his sinkin’ out of sight. Come on, fellers.”
We pertended to start off, but before we had got more than an inch he hollered so loud we was afraid he would bust something, and Mark says:
“Couldn’t f-figger on makin’ a deal with us?”
“No,” says he. “You get me out of here. I’ll settle with you when I git out.”
“Now,” says Mark, “that hain’t no argument to offer. ’Tain’t l-likely we’d help you out for the s-sake of gittin’ a lickin’. We just want a little thing of you. You’re safe and can’t do no harm, so we kin tell you what it is. We found George Piggins, and we got an option from him to that land Wiggamore’s got to have. If you’ll sign it as a witness, we’ll let you out.”
“No,” says he, and he got stubborn and kept quiet. We just sat down and waited and had a good time.
It began to get toward noon. Mark dragged out his lunch and motioned us to come closer to the well. We did and started to eat, talking loud about how good the things were. There were sandwiches and cake and bananas and pickles and pie and a lot of stuff. Mark leaned over and hoped the man wasn’t hungry. He said something real hot back. Then, after a minute, he started in to argue and get real sorry for himself. Then he mentioned how hungry he was, and how uncomfortable, and then he began to beg, and all the time we was spilling crumbs on his head and talking about our grub. I guess it was more than he could stand.