“Larry stole ’em!” she had concluded from the first. “What’s old letters, anyway? But I’ll get those letters if I die for it!”
She shamelessly ransacked Larry’s possessions while she cleaned his disorderly shack, but no letters did she find. She became irritable and unmoral.
“Lordy!” she confided to Peneluna one day while they were preparing Larry’s food, “don’t yer wish, Peneluna, that it wasn’t evil to poison some folks’ grub?”
Peneluna paused and looked at the girl with startled eyes.
“If you talk like that,” she replied, “I’ll hustle you into the almshouse.” Then: “Who would you like to do that to?” she asked.
“Oh! folks as just clutter up life for decent folks. Maclin and Larry.”
“Now, see here, Jan-an, that kind of talk is downright creepy and terrible wicked. Listen to me. Are you listening?”
Jan-an nodded sullenly.
“I’m your best friend, child. I mean to stand by yer, so you just heed. There are folks as can use language like that and others will laugh it off, but you can’t do it. The best thing for you to do is to slip along out of sight and sound as 135 much as yer can. If you attract attention––the Lord above knows what will happen; I don’t.”
Jan-an was impressed.