"A tenpenny nail in an oak plank, miss, can't hold it better'n I can a secret if it concerns you or Gilbert there," he answered, with more resolution than was usual with him.
"It isn't much, but we think it a good deal," she answered, still hesitating.
"If you think that, it's mount'ins to me," he answered.
"Thank you; and it is good of you to say so. Gilbert has to go away to-night, Blott," she hurried on, "and without any one knowing it, or where he is, and I want you to go with him."
"All right, miss, I'll do anything you say; but what's the matter, if there ain't no harm in askin'?"
"Moth's here," I answered, "and he is determined to make trouble, and so I am going away."
"Is that woodtick after you agin? Well, if that's all you're goin' for, I can fix him quicker'n a butterfly can flap his wings," Blott responded, straightening up. "See that fist? If it was to hit him, he wouldn't light this side of Rock River's foamin' waters. I hain't had a scrap since the cold winter of '32, an' I'm just dyin' for one."
"No, Blott; it wouldn't help me, and only get you into trouble," I answered.
"Well, just as you say; but if you'd let me give the little burr a thrashin'—nothin' to hurt, you know—he'd never bother you agin."
"No, that wouldn't do. The more he is opposed, the worse he is. The only thing for me to do is to go away until things can be fixed up by Uncle Job."