“No’m,” Jack murmured. “I’m all mixed up. I don’t know what to do—”
“I want you to stay with me always, Jack. You’re a fine boy.”
“You mean that? You ain’t just handing me a line so’s I’ll do what you want?”
“I really mean it, Jack. You should know by this time that when I give my word I keep it.”
Jack debated with himself only a moment longer. Then he arrived at his decision.
“I want to stay here,” he said earnestly. “I’ll do whatever you tell me to—and I ain’t crossin’ my fingers when I say it, either! You can switch me whenever you want to and I won’t try to take the switch away from you.”
“Now that’s right considerate of you, Jack,” Mrs. Jones smiled. “We’ll get along fine from now on. And we won’t need that switch again.”
“I’ll fill the woodbox,” Jack offered eagerly. “You’re most out of kindling.”
Mrs. Jones hauled him up short. “That job can wait, Jack. You got something else more important to do.”
“Tell us everything you know about the tin box,” Mr. Hatfield urged. “You’ll be doing the Cubs a real service, Jack. You see, not only myself but the entire organization has been under a cloud since the money disappeared.”