Luis began to whisper, and beg:
“Tell her, Ned. Tell her. I hate the dark––I do, I do!”
Ned hesitated but a moment longer. He loved his playmate as his own soul, and it altered nothing of this childish David-and-Jonathan friendship that it was as full of fight as of affection. Patting Luis’ shoulder, he cried:
“’Course I’ll tell, though if she knows it all a’ready–––”
“But I don’t know it, Ned. She wants you to tell me. I’m one of us, you see––just we four,” interposed the sharpshooter, hastily.
“Well––well––well, ’tisn’t anyhow. Only I saw––I––saw–––”
Here the child paused and peered cautiously about.
Mr. Marsh promptly sat down upon the boards and motioned the lads to come to him, and when they had done so, closed his arms around them, with a comforting pressure, saying:
“There now! We’re as snug as bugs in a rug, and nobody in the wide world dare harm you. Hurry up and talk fast, or you and I will never get a taste of that fine poundcake Aunt Sally wants to make.”