"If that's your game," he said, "I'll see you don't get a chance to swear to any lies."
"What do you mean to do with me?" demanded Rufus.
"I aint decided yet," said Martin. "Your health's so delicate that I don't think it'll agree with you to go out in the street."
"Are you going to confine me here?"
"Maybe," said his step-father. "I shan't charge you nothing for board. Your cheerful company'll pay me for that."
"Mr. Martin," said Rufus, "I've got a proposition to make to you."
"Go ahead and make it then."
"You've got yourself into a scrape about that tin box."
"I thought you was the one that had got into a scrape," said Martin, jocularly.
"So I have; but mine is of a different kind from yours. You run the risk of going to prison."