“Say, he’s lit out!” Sam’s tone conveyed dismay as well as apology. It was a sign of Michael’s real eagerness that he knew at once who was meant. “Buck?” Sam grunted assent. “When?” “Day er so ago, I tuk yer word to ’im but he’d gone. Lef’ word he had a big deal on, an’ ef it came troo all right ’e’d send fer us. You see it wan’t safe round here no more. The police was onto his game. Thur wan’t no more hidin’ fer him. He was powerful sorry not to see you. He’d always thought a heap o’ Mikky!” “How long had he known I was here?” Michael’s face was grave in the darkness. Why had Buck not sent him some word? Made some appointment? “Since you first cum back.” “Why—oh, Sam, why didn’t he let me come and see him?” “It warn’t safe,” said Sam earnestly. “Sure thing, it warn’t! ’Sides—” “Besides what, Sam?” The question was eager. “’Sides, he knowed you’d had edicashun, an’ he knowed how you looked on his way o’ livin’. He didn’t know but—” “You mean he didn’t trust me, Sam?” Sam felt the keen eyes upon him even hi the darkness. “Naw, he didn’t tink you’d snitch on him ner nothin’, but he didn’t know but you might tink you had to do some tings what might kick it all up wid him. You’d b’en out o’ tings fer years, an’ you didn’t know de ways o’ de city. ’Sides, he ain’t seed you like I done—” “I see,” said Michael, “I understand. It’s a long time and of course he only knows what you have told him, and if there was danger,—but oh, Sam, I wish he could go down to Old Orchard. Did you ever tell him about it, and about my plans?” “Sure ting I did. Tole ’im all you tole me. He said ’twar all right. Ef he comes out on dis deal he’ll be back in a while, an’ he’ll go down dere ef you want him. He said he’d bring a little wad back to make things go ef dis deal went troo.” “Do you know what the deal is, Sam?” “Sure!” “Is it dis—is it”—he paused for a word that would convey his meaning and yet not offend—“is it—dangerous, Sam?” “Sure!” admitted Sam solemnly as though it hurt him to pain his friend. “Do you mean it will make more hiding for him?” “Sure!” emphatically grave. “I wish he hadn’t gone!” There was sharp pain in Michael’s voice. “I wisht so too!’” said Sam with a queer little choke to his voice, “Mebbe ’twon’t come off after all. Mebbe it’ll git blocked. Mebbe he’ll come back.” The anxiety in Sam’s tone touched Michael, but another thought had struck him hard. “Sam,” said he plucking at the others sleeve in the darkness, “Sam, tell me, what was Buck doing—before he went away. Was it all straight? Was he in the same business with you?” Sam breathed heavily but did not answer. At last with difficulty he answered a gruff, “Nope!” “What was it, Sam? Won’t you tell me?” “It would be snitchin’.” “Not to me, Sam. You know I belong to you all.” “But you’ve got new notions.” “Yes,” admitted Michael, “I can’t help that, but I don’t go back on you, do I?” “No, you don’t go back on we’uns, that’s so. But you don’t like we’s doin’s.”