“I did all I could,” said William, “I tried to make ’em get a car so’s we could have him to drive it an’ they just wun’t. I tried makin’ ’em have him as a gardener an’ they wun’t do that either.”
Ginger, looking melancholy, related his experiences.
“I thought we might have him as a gardener, too,” he said, “an’ so I tied a string across the doorway of the greenhouse ’cause I thought that if ours fell an’ sprained his ankle I could tell ’em about this new one an’ then they’d get him. I din’t think it would do ours any harm to sprain his ankle—jus’ give him a nice rest for one thing an—an’ he’s a such a crabby ole thing. It might make him kinder same as what they say sufferin’ does in books.”
“Did he fall?” said the Outlaws with interest.
“No,” said Ginger sadly, “he saw me doin’ it an’ went an’ told my father.”
“Was he mad?” said the Outlaws with interest.
“Yes,” said Ginger still more sadly, “he was awful mad. Simply wouldn’t listen to me tellin’ him I’d tied it there to practise skippin’.”
The Outlaws murmured sympathy and then Henry spoke.
“Well, I tried to get ’em to have him as a man what looks after clothes——”
“Valley,” murmured Ginger.