Now the boy felt that he was made an accomplice. His father took his criticism and acted on it.
It was the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to the boy. He was saving his father from some mistake. The greatest lawyer in the world was taking Keith’s advice. He groaned with delight and hugged his father’s arm, murmuring:
“We’re like pardners——”
“Partners we are.”
“I’m a big man now at last. Couldn’t you let me know ever’thing, so’s I could help you when you needed me?”
His father gazed at him devotedly and kissed him. He did not like that kissing business. Big men did not indulge in such girls’ play. Still he remembered the story of Nelson’s death in the sea battle and how the fearless admiral’s last words were a plea to another officer to kiss him.
But in spite of this burst of affection his father would not explain the Lasher mystery; he said the boy was too young to know. Yet he was not too young to tell enough to let other grown-up people know. RoBards, haggard with loss of sleep and the storms he had barely weathered, was frantic to prevent the children from publishing the devastating news.
Curiosity would work in them like a yeast and the instinct to ask questions could only be overcome by some overwhelming injunction.
He led Keith to the library and fetched out the vast family Bible, and set the boy’s little hand on it and said:
“Swear that you will never mention Jud Lasher’s name to anybody, or breathe a word of what he did or what I did to him. Do you swear?”