“Well, just as you say, Janey. What do you do to keep from beun' afraid?”
“Oh, I don't know. I just think, I suppose.”
“Well, I just want to squeal.” Sally had been talking in her loud, loose voice to keep her courage up. “Well, I declare if we ain't there a'ready. If you just say the word I'll have Abel out in half a minute, and—”
“No,” the girl said. “Good night.”
“Well, good night. I've got half a mind to go back with you myself,” Sally called, as she lifted her hand to pull the latchstring of her door.
Jane Gillespie found her father standing at the bars when she went back. He mechanically let them down for her.
“I thought you would be in bed, Father,” she said gently, but coldly.
“I've had things to keep me awake; and it's hot indoors,” he answered, and then he demanded, “Well?”
If it was his way of bidding her tell him of her evening's experience, she did not obey him, and he had to make another attempt on her silence. “Was Hughey there?”
“Hughey? I don't know.”