“Hold on a minute, Granville Joy,” said she. “I want to know what's up with the lasters.”
Granville laughed, with an uneasy, sidelong, deprecating glance at Ellen. “Oh, nothing much,” said he.
Willy Jones stood still, coloring, gazing at Abby with a half-terrified expression. Dixon walked on, and the other young man, Amos Lee, who was dark and slight and sinewy, stared from one to the other with quick flashes of black eyes. He looked almost as if he had gypsy blood in him, and he came of a family which was further on the outskirts of society than the Louds had been.
When Granville replied “nothing much” to Abby's question, Amos Lee frowned with a swift contraction of dissent, but did not speak until Abby had retorted. “You needn't talk that way to me, Granville Joy,” said she. “You can't cheat me. I know something's up.”
“It ain't nothin', Abby,” said Granville, but it was quite evident that he was lying.
Then Lee spoke up, in a sudden fury of enthusiasm. “There is somethin' up,” said he, “and I don't care if you do know it. There's—” he stopped as Granville clutched his arm violently and whispered something.
“Well, maybe you're right,” said Lee to Joy. “Look here,” he continued to Abby, “you and Ellen come along here a little ways, and I'll tell you.”
After Maria and Mamie had passed on, Joy and Jones and Lee, standing close to the two girls, began to talk, Lee leading.
“Well, look here,” he said, in a hushed voice. “We've found out—no matter how, but we've found out—that the boss is goin' to dock the lasters' pay.”
“How much?” asked Abby.