“I know,” Skippy admitted. “I guess Devlin makes us feel that way, huh?”
Nickie nodded. “If I didn’t hate the jug worse’n this house, I’d say, let’s sneak.”
“Maybe we’ll have to,” Skippy said softly, and nodded toward the sleeping Timmy. “If we stick round s’long as he’s done an’ get like he’s now, I’d rather take a chance an’ beat it.”
Nickie nodded thoughtfully. “Anythin’ you say, kid, an’ I’m stringin’ along. Even if you’re only a kid, that bean of yours works all day.”
Skippy warmed to Nickie for that tribute and he felt less afraid. It gave him a sense of strength to know that he had such an ally for he realized that he could do little alone.
Devlin called them gruffly to breakfast and the food wasn’t bad. It would have been almost pleasant, Skippy ventured to remark, if they only had more light in the kitchen. Nickie agreed to this, but Timmy seemed in a daze.
After breakfast, Devlin made a concession which took them by surprise. “On account of the weather being so hot,” he said gravely, “I’m going to let you boys stay outside a while.”
“Gee!” Skippy murmured.
Devlin scowled. “It’s taking a chance to let you out, but I’m counting on you not straying away from in sight of this house—understand?” After a pause, he added: “I got my reasons.”
They understood only too well and made no further comment when Devlin unlocked the front door and sat on the ugly high stoop as they passed down and into the clearing about the house. Timmy sat on the bottom step, blinking his blue eyes and clasping and unclasping his hands.