“Then how are you to get back?” asked Candon.
“I’ve been trying to think that long enough,” said Tommie. “You remember the rat in the flower pot—something or another will turn up, or I’ll have to do some more thinking.”
“Do you know what I’m thinking?” asked Candon. “I’m thinking there’s not many would stick this out just to save a couple of men from being guyed.”
“Maybe—I don’t know. Anyhow the other thing is I want to see the end of this business and that stuff got out of the sand and handed back to its owners. Lord, can’t you see? If we turned back now we’d be quitters, and I don’t know what you’d do with yourself; but I tell you what I’d do with myself, I’d take to making lace for a living—or go as mother’s help—paugh!”
“God!” said Candon, “give me your fist.”
Tommie held out her fist and they shook.