"But ef we both went, Pepper?"
"What 'ud come o' Trusty?" asked Pepper.
"I doesn't know the ways of work'uses," said Tom, speaking half to himself. "Maybe they'll take h'in the h'old dog. Ef you and I were to beg of 'em a little 'ard, they might take h'in old Trusty, Pepper."
"But I doesn't want to go to no work'us," whispered Pepper.
"I only says perhaps, Pepper," answered poor Tom. "I'd 'ate to go."
"Well, don't let's think of it," said Pepper, putting up his lips to kiss Tom. "Yer'll be better in the morning, Tom; and, Tom," he added, half-timidly, half-exultantly, "I've been real sperrited h'all day. Pat came in and began to talk 'bout dear Trusty, but I flew at him, I boxed im right up h'in the ear, Tom."
"Did yer really?" answered Tom, laughing, and forgetting the pain in his ankle for the moment.
"Yes, and 'e's nothink but a coward, Tom, fur 'e just runned away. I'll never be a Hen-e-ry to him no more," added the little boy with strong emphasis.
"No; yer a real nice, peppery young 'un," said Tom, "and I'm proud o' yer; but now go to sleep, young 'un, for I 'as a deal to think about."
"'Ow's the pain, Tom?"