“The b-bass was taken by somebody that wasn’t very big—smaller than Binney, I should say, but heavier. He probably needed somethin’ to eat. He was afraid of b-bein’ seen, so he couldn’t ask for it, so he took it, and, bein’ honest, left what he thought the f-fish was worth to pay for it.”
“Hum!” says I, sarcastic-like. “What color were his eyes?”
“Black,” says Mark, as quick as a wink, “and he carried a club with a knob on the end of it.”
“Yes,” says I, sarcastic again, “and he had two arms and two legs and parted his hair on the left side.”
“If you ever see him,” says Mark, “you’ll f-f-find out he doesn’t part his hair at all.”
“Rats!” says I.
Mark just grinned as provoking as could be. “If you’d use your eyes, Tallow, you wouldn’t n-need to be told so much. L-look here.” He pointed to a footprint in the mud. “Little, hain’t it? Smaller ’n Binney’s. Here, Binney, step alongside.”
“THE B-BASS WAS TAKEN BY SOMEBODY THAT WASN’T VERY BIG”
Binney did and his foot was half an inch longer than the mark in the mud.