Willy, whose own feet were nearly freezing, replied by a sniff of contempt. He planted himself on a rock in the middle of the river, and awaited the rest of Fred's speech.
"You know I've got folks living this side, back there a piece—my uncle Diah. That's where I'll go. They'll let me make a visit, and carry me home: they did it last spring."
"And what about me, Fred Chase?"
"You? Why, you may go where you're a mind to."
"What? Me, that you coaxed so to come?"
Fred quailed before the look and the tone.
"Well, I'd take you to uncle Diah's, Willy, only—well—I can't very well, that's all."
Willy suddenly turned his back, and cleared the stream with one bound.