“You'd better not. Wait here a minutes, while I look around for some one of whom I can make inquiries. Here, sit down on that settee, and, mind you, don't stir till I come back. Will you obey me?”
“Yes,” answered the boy, submissively.
CHAPTER XXVII — THE RIDE TO BARTON'S
Willis Ford went to the station master, who stood at the door with a cheap cigar in his mouth.
“Is there a man named Joel Barton living hereabouts?” he asked.
The station master took his cigar from his mouth and surveyed his questioner with some curiosity.
“Does he owe you money?” he inquired.
“No,” answered Ford, impatiently. “Will you answer my question?”
“You needn't be in such a pesky hurry,” drawled the station master. “Yes, he lives up the road a piece.”