“I’ve got to go to town tomorrow,” stated Kirk. “We are out of food. I’ve been putting it off for several days, but it has become an absolute necessity.”
“I hate to have you go to town, Jim,” said Mrs. Kirk. “Under the circumstances it is hard to tell what might happen.”
“Don’t you worry, honey.”
Kirk leaned across the table and patted her on the shoulder.
“I’ll hitch up the old horse to the old wagon in the morning,” he continued, “and be back here in two hours with a load of food.”
“I’ve got a better scheme than that,” grinned Skeeter. “I’ll go after yore grub for yuh.”
Kirk shook his head.
“No, I can’t let you get into any trouble on our account. They would recognize that horse and wagon, and you can’t tell what would happen.”
“I’d shore like t’ see what would happen,” said Skeeter slowly, rolling a cigaret. “I’m willin’, ’f the town is, and I ain’t got nobody waitin’ f’r me t’ come back all in one chunk.”
“But why should you do this for us?” asked Kirk. “I killed your horse and nearly killed you.”