Joel stopped pounding and looked anxiously over at the store door, while Mr. Atkins laughed and leaned over the counter.
“What’s it all about—where do you want David to go?” he asked.
David, who up to this time had sat quite still, now hopped from his barrel and ran over to Joel. “Oh, I can’t go,” he cried. “I’m going to stay here and help Mr. Atkins.”
Joel whirled around and seized Davie’s calico blouse. “You can,” he howled, “you can, Davie—”
“Where do you want David to go?” demanded the storekeeper, between Joel’s howls and David’s remonstrances.
“Fishing,” said Joel. Then he turned a face of anguish. “Do make him,” he cried, still hanging to David’s blouse.
“Don’t you want to go, Davie?” asked Mr. Atkins with a keen glance at him.
David stopped crying. “Oh, I can’t go,” and hung his head. He wanted dreadfully to say, “No, sir,” but Mamsie had always told them all to speak the truth. So he said, “Yes,” in a very low voice.
“Then I guess you better go,” said the storekeeper.
“Oh, no, no,” cried Davie, springing away from Joel. “I can’t go. Don’t make me, Mr. Atkins.”