A few minutes later Skeeter heard a loud wail down the street, and broke into a broad grin.
“I reckin Shin is done fell on Ready Rocket an’ squshed him; mebbe he’s done squoze Ready’s sore arm; mebbe Ready’s got de colics—I hopes so. I hopes all dem things is come to pass.”
About two hours after Shin Bone had taken his departure with little Ready Rocket, Mustard Prophet entered, looked around the barroom for a moment, then came over to Skeeter Butts, and inquired:
“Whar is Ready Rocket?”
“Gawd knows,” Skeeter replied. “He has went.”
“Happy Rocket sont me to fetch him home,” Mustard said. “She say it’s little Ready’s bedtime an’ he’ll git sleepy.”
“My stars an’ garters!” Skeeter exclaimed. “She don’t look fer dat brat home to-night, do she?”
“Suttinly. Whar is he at?”
Skeeter began to pant. He mopped the sweat from his forehead and looked around him desperately. His eyes lighted upon Pap Curtain.