“You’ll be clever if you do that, boy,” said the man, sneeringly.
I allowed the boy to follow me down into the cabin, and then asked him what he had to say.
“I have that to tell you which is of more value than the lives of a hundred boys like me.”
“Boys like you? Why I thought it was to save your father’s life that you came down, Sir?”
“Pooh!” said he, “let him hang; he was born for a halter. I am come to save my own life. I only said that to gammon him.”
“You’re a hopeful youth,” said I; “and pray what is that you can tell me that will save your own neck from the halter?”
“That which will save your own, most likely,” replied the boy, “and tit-for-tat’s all fair.”
“Well, let’s hear it then,” replied I.
“No, not unless you promise. I can swing, if need be, as well as father, but I’d rather not, ’cause I know where all his money is hidden.”
“I can’t make any promise,” replied I.