Tyke turned upon her with an evil look.
“You little devil, you!” he said, glaring at her with the glare of one who had been baffled.
Lib was too frightened to speak, and her teeth were chattering with the cold, but she lifted her game little face toward his evil one and suddenly stuck out her tongue and made an impish face at him, expressing all the hate and loathing of her little courageous soul. The man looked down at her astonished, blinking, scarcely believing that such daring could come from a baby.
“I c’d kill you, you young ’un—” he muttered.
“I don’t see what good that would do,” said Lib unexpectedly, her quick mind intrigued by the situation. “You couldn’t find out where my uncle lived by killing me, could you? It isn’t written inside my head anywhere,” and she laughed a ghoulish little laugh made all the more weird by the tremble of her voice.
“Well, I’ll be——”
But Lib was gathering strength with her breath as it returned.
“I never said I wouldn’t tell you where my uncle was, did I?”
The man was speechless. Could it be that this mere infant was kidding him? Not scared at all, but just putting one over on him? He stared at her in bewilderment. Lib, eying him, knew that she had gained a point. She summoned voice again.
“But I ain’t going to tell you till I get back home again. If you had asked me polite like a gentleman when you first took me, I might uv; but now I shan’t tell ya a thing till I’m back home. Come on, get a move on. I’ve gotta get back and study my spelling fer tomorrow. Can’t you get through this road or do ya have to turn around?”