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And Bunny went to the back door. “I suppose you’ve got a big
screen-porch here. Kind of hot indoors, don’t you think?” He unlocked
the door, and opened it, and looked out. “The breeze feels good,” he
said. “And you can see all the wells from here. Won’t it be fun when
they get to drilling right on this block!”
What a friendly little fellow! Mrs. Groarty was thinking; and she said
yes, and it would be soon, she hoped. Bunny said that perhaps she’d
catch cold, with that lovely evening dress she had on; so he shut the
door again; and his hostess was so charmed by the agreeable manners of
the aristocracy that she failed to notice that he did not lock the door.
He put the empty glass on the drain-board of the sink, and said no
thanks, he didn’t wish any more, and followed Mrs. Groarty back to the
crowded living-room.
“What I say is this—” it was the voice of Mr. Sahm, the plasterer. “If
you really want to sign the lease as it was, sign it as we all
understood it; let’s figure the land we own, and not the street we don’t
own.”
“In other words,” said Mrs. Walter Black, sarcastically, “let’s change
the lease.”
“In other words,” said Miss Snypp, even more sarcastically, “let’s not
fall into the trap you big lots set for us.”
VIII
It was to be expected that a thirteen-year old boy would grow weary of
such a wrangle; so no one paid the least attention when J. Arnold Ross,
junior, made his way to the front door and went out. He reached the back
door just as Paul Watkins was closing it softly behind him. “Thanks,
kid,” whispered the latter, and stole away to the wood-shed, with Bunny
close behind him. Paul’s first sentence was: “I got a piece of ham and
two slices of bread, and one piece of pie.” He already had his mouth
full.
“That’s all right, I guess,” said Bunny, judiciously. He waited, and for
a while there was no sound, save that of a hungry creature chewing. The
stranger was only a shadow with a voice; but outside, in the starlight,
Bunny had noted that the shadow was a head taller than himself, and
thin.
“Gee, it’s tough to be starvin’!” said the voice, at last. “Do you want
any of this?”
“Oh no, I had my supper,” said Bunny. “And I’m not supposed to eat at
night.”
The other went on chewing, and Bunny found it mysterious and romantic;
it might have been a hungry wolf there in the darkness! They sat on
boxes, and when the sounds of eating ceased, Bunny said: “What made you
run away from home?”
The other answered with another question, a puzzling one: “What church
do you belong to?”
“How do you mean?” countered Bunny.
“Don’t you know what it means to belong to a church?”
“Well, my grandmother takes me to a Baptist church sometimes, and my
mother takes me to a ’Piscopal one when I’m visiting her. But I don’t
know as I belong to any.”
“My Gosh!” said Paul. It was evident he was deeply impressed by this
statement. “You mean your father don’t make you belong to no church?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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