"Well, that's somethin'," returned Hammond. "When I was yer age, James, a quart measure would of held all of my personal clothin' I didn't happen to be wearin' at the time. You'd of done better to of kep' yer money till you got here an' let me lay it out for you in trade—but property is property."
The high wagon was soon loaded. The load was secured with heavy ropes. Hammond and Jim took their places side by side on the board which served as a seat, and the big grays settled into their padded collars, straightened out the steel traces with a jangle and pulled away from the platform. Jim looked back over his shoulder and saw the station-master watching through the window of the red shack.
The road dipped to the covered bridge. The bridge was a long tunnel of soft gloom and golden, dusty twilight. The hoofs boomed on the plank flooring; the roof showed a few pinpoints of sunshine and long shafts of light slanted through cracks between the weather-warped boards of the walls. Amos Hammond looked as agreeable as his peculiar cast of countenance permitted. The road went up steeply a distance of fifty yards or so, reached a level and swung along it to the right, and ran northward between the brown river and the wooded hillside.
"I spoke short when I first met you, James," said Hammond, giving young Todhunter a swift glance and a crooked smile. "I was right glad to see you an' welcome you to Racket River—but I ain't no dissembler. A plain, downright man, rough, but honest: that's me an' that's how ye'll always find me, my friend. My anger flared when I seen yer company an' yer occupation, James, but I ain't one to condemn a young feller on sight. Many a good man has been tempted. Aye, an' many a godly man has played about the brink of the Pit of Everlastin' Damnation in the days of his unregenerate youth."
This was language new to young Todhunter. His first thought was that it was a joke in a style of humor peculiar to Racket River, but a glance at his companion's profile convinced him of the fact that it was not an intentional joke, at least. Then what was it?
"Ah—I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I don't follow you," he said.
"What would yer pa say if he knew?" asked Hammond.
"My father? What about?"
"You were playin' cards with Harvey White: gamblin' with the devil, riskin' everlastin' life for a few minutes of ungodly amusement."
"Oh, hold on. White seems a good sort. And as for gambling, there wasn't even a nickel in sight."