“It is the same to me—and that’s why I can’t explain,” I told him, frankly. “I hung onto myself all that time, wanting to do it, and then I let go and did it!”
“About as you went to cutting up in Levant before you skipped out,” he snapped.
Up to that time, not by word or look had he let me know that he had any knowledge of why I had left my home town.
“Dod explained it to me in the letter he sent with you. But he had excuses to give.”
I had to admire Captain Vose’s ability to keep his thoughts to himself, as I remembered the placid countenance he showed to me when he had read that letter.
“Now I reckon that Dod was prejudiced in your favor and that you had been a young devil the folks wanted to boost out of town. Dod’s judgment was never very good in the case of any critters who were willing to cater to him. I don’t suppose you dare to go back up there?”
“I don’t want to go.” But all of a sudden a queer wave of homesickness seemed to come swelling up in me and to choke me like water chokes the throat of a dredge-pump. “I’m done with that town for good and all,” I told him. “I got along all right while I was doing dirt as fast as the rest of ’em, but when I tried to be decent they didn’t give me a show!” I snapped my finger. “I wouldn’t give that for anybody in Levant!”
I knew I was lying and I think Jodrey Vose knew it, for he was a keen old chap. He scowled at me and grunted.
“Got any money left after all the rake-helling you’ve been doing for a year past?”
So he knew all about that, too!