Rufe nodded, and tried to crowd farther away from the bed.
“What you doing to that kid?” demanded Hebe, sitting up. “What’s the matter? Why! that’s the softy I saw——”
“He’s a bad man. He said he’d kill me if I told!” gasped Rufus.
“Where was that?” asked Billson, with his hand on the boy’s arm. “Tell us all about it. He sha’n’t touch you, Rufie.”
“Aw! I wouldn’t have really hurt the gooney,” growled Hebe.
“He was in the place where Uncle Bill watches. I hate that old gymniasium! I wish it would burn down, so I do.”
“And when you were in there that night this fellow was there?” asked Billson, shaking the boy a little by the arm.
“Yes. And he broke things. And Uncle was worried afterward. But I never told,” Rufe urged, looking fearfully at Hebe. “I said I wouldn’t——”
“Aw, drop it! You’ve told on me now, haven’t you?” demanded the fellow from the Four Corners. “Well, it don’t much matter, I reckon. I wanted to queer that Jackway so he’d lose his job. Henry Grimes told me that if he was discharged he’d speak a good word for me and I’d get it. That’s what I was after.”
“Yah!” said Billson, with scorn. “You certainly are one mean scoundrel, Pocock. And lettin’ folks think mebbe Miss Hester was mixed up in it. Nice feller, you are!”