Instead of obeying, the boy sat down on a rounded stone. "I'd a runned away along ago, if it hadn't been, for you, Flea."
"I know that you love me," said the girl brokenly; "I know that, all right!"
"I couldn't have stood Pappy Lon nor Lem nor none of the rest," groaned Flukey, "and I was to tell ye tonight to let me go, and I would come back for ye; but if ye be made to go with Lem—"
"That makes ye take me with you," gasped Flea eagerly. "Huh?"
"Yep, that makes me take ye with me, Flea; but if we go mebbe sometimes we have to go without no bread."
There was warning in his tones; for he had heard stories of other lads who had left the settlement and had returned home lank, pale, and hungry.
"I've been out o' bread here," encouraged Flea. "Granny's put me to bed many a time, and no supper. Get along, will ye?"
"Yep, I'm goin'; but I can't leave Snatchet. We can take my dorg, Flea. Where's he gone?"
"We'll take him," promised Flea. "He's in the wood-house. Scoot and get the duds and him!"
The boy toiled up the rocks to the top of the cave, and Flea heard his departing steps for a moment, then seated herself in tremulous fear.