“I don't think he has. He used to be pa's clerk.”
“I wish we had enough money. You and me would start some fine mornin', and mebbe your father would give me something to do when we got there.”
For the first time Herbert began to feel an interest in the conversation.
“Oh, I wish we could,” he said, fervently. “I know pa would give you a lot of money for bringing me back.”
“Do you really think he would?” asked Abner, briskly.
“I know he would. But your mother wouldn't let us go.”
“She wouldn't know it,” said Abner, winking.
“You wouldn't run away from home?” questioned Herbert.
“Why wouldn't I? What's to keep me here? Marm's always scoldin', and dad gets drunk whenever he has any money to spend for drink. I reckon they wouldn't care much if I made myself scarce.”
Herbert was not sure whether he ought not to feel shocked. He admitted to himself, however, that if he had a father and mother answering the description of Abner's, that he would not so much regret leaving them. At any rate, Abner's words awoke a hope of sometime getting away from the place he already hated, and returning to his city home, now more valued than ever.