"Have what straight?" Carrots asked impatiently.
"'Bout how you an' I stand. Now, you see, I met Skip this afternoon—"
"Didn't tell him where I lived, did you?" Carrots asked, sternly.
"Course not. What do you take me for? But he had a good deal to say 'bout you."
"If he don't ever hurt me any worse'n he can with his tongue, I reckon I'll get along all right."
"He says he's goin' to drive both of you fellers out er the city, if he don't do anything else the rest of the year."
"Then he'll have a chance to get through with a good bit of loafin', for we're not goin' to get up an' dust jest to please him."
"But he's awful mad."
"That don't hurt me any. He can boil over if he wants to, for all I care."
"Well, now, Carrots, he wanted me to do somethin', an' I couldn't get out er promisin'."