Amos chuckled, as though amused at the idea.
“Precious little good I’d do them,” he said. “They might keep me till their hair turned white, and nobody’d pay a nickel for lettin’ me go free. But they’re sharp, I tell you, Sallie. They know them boys are bound to look for me. Don’t you see, it’s going to be a trap, and I’m the bait. And unless you or me warn the boys, they’re just bound to tumble right into it!”
Amos watched her thin face closely when he advanced this “feeler,” as he chose to call it. Sallie started, and looked very serious.
“Me?” she said, slowly.
“Why, yes,” Amos went on, “you wouldn’t want to see a nice feller like my friend Dolph, kept here like he was a dog, would you, Sallie; till somebody sent on some money? If he could be warned, I guess, with Teddy’s help, he might manage to keep clear of the trap.”
“But—what are you saying, boy—you want me to stand up agin dad, and upset his game? My! but he’d be awful mad,” she said, reflectively; and her face looked as careworn as that of a grown woman, Amos thought.
“Well, it might save him from going to prison, that’s all,” he said, “and I guess you wouldn’t like that to happen to him.”
“Oh! no, of course not. You see, boy, I promised mother to stand by dad right along, and try to get him to quit drinkin’ and being tough. He could be decent if he just let that stuff alone, and kept away from that Gabe Hackett. When him and me are alone, and he ain’t got no drink, he’s good. I keep hopin’ and hopin’; but it’s terrible hard work. I sure don’t know how it’s goin’ to end. Sometimes I’m afraid of what he does.”
There was a almost whimper in her voice, that cut the boy cruelly.