“He can’t make me sign it,” smiled Nan, and Len looked sharply at her for a moment.
“No, I don’t reckon he can. Anyway, his price is pretty steep for just notifyin’ yuh. I suppose he got paid as he went along, and never ran any bills. But don’tcha worry about Baggs.”
“Oh, I’m not worrying about him, Len. I’d rather take your advice than his.”
“Well,” drawled Len, “I wouldn’t go so far as that, if I was you, Nan. He knows a lot about the workings of the law, while about all I know is the effects of it.”
Nan slipped to the ground and handed her reins to Len. “You shouldn’t remind yourself of that all the time, Len,” she said.
“I’ve got to,” he told her seriously. “Why, if I didn’t remind myself all the time of them five years, I’d go out and—and prob’ly get sent back again. Nan, don’t never do anythin’ that might send yuh to jail.”
He turned abruptly and started toward the stable with the two horses, leaving Nan rather breathless, looking after him. Came the soft drumming of the old triangle beside the kitchen door, and she turned to see Whispering grinning at her.
“Supper time, boss,” he said, his red face beaming like a full moon. “Amos Baggs came out to see yuh to-day, and me and Sailor shore sent him back home talkin’ to himself. First time I ever seen Amos Baggs with a skinful of liquor. Oh, he wasn’t drunk, but he had plenty. He was jist a mongrel when he showed up here, but me and Sailor shore sent him home with a pedigree.”
“Did he say what he wanted?” asked Nan.
“Never had no chance, ma’am. We didn’t listen—we talked. You hop into yore other clothes quick, ’cause them biscuits are due to rise out of the oven right now. Sailor felt so good over his talk with Baggs that he cut me plenty good wood for once in his rheumatic existence.”