“I will walk along with you, if you will let me, Mr. Tom.”
“I think you’ve got more cheek than any man I know. After the trick you played upon us, you expect us to tolerate your presence.”
“Please let me accompany you, Mr. Tom. I might meet the Indians again.”
“Then go in a different direction. You cannot go with us.”
Mr. Silverthorn produced his red handkerchief, and rubbed his eyes again.
“It is a hard, cold world!” he said. “I am a very unfortunate man.”
“Perhaps you are; but I don’t think you deserve to be very fortunate. Just make up your mind that you are not going to travel with us. Had you behaved honorably, and not repaid kindness by theft, we would have allowed you to remain with us for a time; but now it is impossible.”
“I shall starve, and be found a wretched corpse by the wayside,” moaned Dionysius.
“Let him have some provisions, Tom,” said Mrs. Cooper, who was naturally compassionate. She had given up the idea that he was a truly good man, but she was not willing that he should be left quite unprovided for.
“I will do that,” said Tom.