“If I do stick to it, Webb, you’ve got to make me a promise and keep it.”
“Sure I will! You know me, kid. You and me was always the best ’o pals, and I ain’t the kind of a guy to go back on my friends. What’s it you want me to do?”
“I want you to leave here on the first train after they let you go, Webb, and find a job and stick to it. You know mighty well this way of living ain’t going to get you anywhere, Webb. Gosh, when I was a kid I thought you were just about the finest fellow in the world! You were always mighty good to me, Webb, and I just can’t forget it. I want you should quit this business and be like you used to be. You can if you’ll try, Webb, I know you can!”
“Sure!” Webb Todd’s voice had been a little husky. “You’re dead right, too, kid. This is a rotten life, and I know it. But—” He had sort of run down there. After a moment he said almost wistfully: “Say, kid, I wasn’t a bad sort back in the old days, was I? You and me had some swell times, didn’t we? Remember the time the old red sow got out and we was chasin’ it and it ran in the kitchen and your ma was making bread and the old sow came out with the pan o’ dough on her head?”
“Yes, and I remember the time I fell between the logs in Beecher’s Cove and you dived in and got me out, Webb.”
“Sure.” Webb had nodded reminiscently. “You come near kicking in that time, kid.” After a moment’s silence Jim had asked:
“Well, will you do it, Webb?”
“I’ll try, kid.”
“You mean it? You promise me you’ll really try, Webb? Try as hard as you know how?”