“Say, Peter, you’re foolish.” The boy had calmed, and now spoke with a shrewd decision that was curiously convincing. “Will’ll go his way, and Eve won’t figger wuth a cent with him. I know. Eve’ll jest have to git her toes right on the mark, same as me. He’s a devil, and I know. Will’ll make Eve hate herself, same as he’ll make me. Say, an’ I’ll tell you this, Eve’ll hev to work for him as well as me. I know. I can see. You can’t tell me of Will, nor of nobody that’s bad––’cause I ken see into ’em. I’m bad, an’ I ken see into folks who ’re bad.”
There was no argument against such an attitude as the boy took. Besides, Peter began to understand. Here was an unique study in psychology. The boy either fancied he possessed––or did possess––such unusual powers of observation that they almost amounted to the prophetic, where that which was bad was concerned. He saw Will in a light in which no one else saw him, although already he, Peter, and Jim had witnessed unpleasant dashes of that side of the man’s character which Elia seemed to read like an open book. However, he could not abandon his task yet, but he changed his tactics.
“Maybe you’re right, laddie,” he said. “I was thinking of poor Eve. I was wondering if you wouldn’t like to try and make her happy, seeing she’s always been so good to you. I do believe you’d rather she was happy.”
The boy nodded his head, and an impish light crept into his eyes.
“And you’re going to try and make her––happy?”
Peter was smiling with simple eager hope. The impish light deepened in the boy’s eyes.
“Maybe,” he said. “Guess I’ll do what I ken. When Will treats me fair I’ll treat him fair. I can’t do a heap of work, seein’ I’m as I am, but if he wants me to do things I’ll do ’em––if he treats me fair. I’ll do what I ken, but I hate him. Maybe you’re guessin’ that’ll be makin’ things fair for Eve. You best guess agin.” Then the impish light left his eyes, and they became quite serious again. “Say, tell me some more ’bout that gold?”
But Peter laughed and shook his head.
“Time enough, laddie,” he said, pleased with the result 145 of his first essay on behalf of peace between Elia and Will. “You’re going to get that gold when we find it, sure, so come right along and let’s get to work––and find it.”