“You figger I better see him, then,” says Silas.
“I don’t f-figger he’ll harm you none.”
Silas gives out a big sigh that came all the way from his shoes. “I’m plumb scairt,” says he.
“I’ll call him,” says Mark.
“No. No. Whoa there, boy. Hold on a minnit. Lemme git ready first. Seems like I got to brace myself for this meetin’. Sure he’s feelin’ mild and gentle?”
“As a lamb,” says Mark.
“Wisht I could git a peek at him before I tackle him,” says Silas.
“Just walk around and look through the kitchen window,” says Mark.
Silas stood still a minute, and then he tip-toed around the house, and we saw him put his nose against the window and stand there, staring in. In a couple of jiffies he was back again.
“Looks stern and kind of war-like,” he says.