“Y-yes, sir,” said Westy nervously.
“It’s an expensive pastime,” said the justice, not unkindly.
“Yes, sir,” said Westy.
“I can’t understand why you did it, a straightforward, honest-looking boy like you.”
Westy said nothing, only set his lips tightly as if to safeguard himself against saying too much or giving way to his feelings.
“A boy that is honest enough to speak up and confess—to do such a thing—I can’t understand it,” the justice mused aloud, observing Westy keenly.
“It’s lettin’ ’em hev guns that’s to blame,” observed the game warden.
“It’s dressin’ ’em all up like hunters an’ callin’ ’em scaouts as duz it,” said Farmer Sands. “They was wantin’ me ter contribute money fer them scaouts, but I sez—I sez no, ’tain’t no good gon’ ter come of it, dressin’ youngsters up ’an givin’ ’em firearms an’ sendin’ ’em out ter vialate the laws.”
“They seem to know how to tell the truth,” said the justice, apparently rather puzzled.
“He was gon’ ter hide in Luke Meadows’ place when we catched him red-handed an’ he wuz sceered outer his seven senses an’ that’s why he confessed,” said Farmer Sands vehemently.