Pause.
“Look here, Joe!” said Bill, “I don't want to get a hiding and go without supper to-night. I promised to go 'possuming with Johnny Nowlett, and he's going to give me a fire out of his gun. You can come, too. I don't want to cop out on it to-night—if I do I'll run away from home again, so there.”
Bill walked on a bit in moody, Joe in troubled, silence.
Bill tried again: he threatened, argued, and pleaded, but Joe was firm. “The master trusted me, Will,” he said.
“Joe,” said Bill at last, after a long pause, “I wouldn't do it to you.”
Joe was troubled.
“I wouldn't do it to you, Joe.”
Joe thought how Bill had stood up and fought for him only last week.
“I'd tear the note in bits; I'd tell a hundred lies; I'd take a dozen hidings first, Joe—I would.”
Joe was greatly troubled. His chest heaved, and the tears came to his eyes.