"I thought it was fifteen seventy-five for gaming."
"They were let off lighter, owing to the fact that I was not brought. If they'd a caught me, it would have been fifteen seventy-five for them, and about a hundred for me."
Wyeth laughed amusedly.
"You don't gamble or drink liquah, either, do you?" he asked, and then answered his own question. "No, I know you don't. You're lucky for using such common sense. It doesn't pay, even if four nigga's out-a five do. Yeh," he went on wearily, "only the straight and narrow path leads to happiness in the long run," and with that he turned on his side, and went to sleep.
"Say," he cried suddenly, raising up, "what did you pay?" Then looked around quickly to see if he had been overheard.
"Two and a half," the other replied. "How much did you?"
Legs held up two fingers. "I told'm 't'was all I had, and I didn't have but a precious little more."
"Are you acquainted with any one in Chicago?" Wyeth inquired.
"Aw, yeh, a plenty; but I am not going on through now. I'm going to stop in Effingham for a while, it depends."
"Hello, Red," cried young Hatfield, coming up now, rubbing his half closed eyes. "I see you got out all right."