“Ain’ that fine? You take this yere money, Mas’ Wayne, an’ buy them
things, an’ I’ll run back an’ fetch that blanket.” June grinned from
ear to ear, displaying a wealth of glistening white teeth.
“You’re sure no one owns that car, though, June? We don’t want to get
settled down there and then be put out the way they put us out of the
little shed.”
“Huh, ain’ no police ever gets aroun’ there, I reckon,” answered June.
“Man said it didn’ belong to no one, too.”
“All right. You get the blanket and I’ll buy what I can and meet you at
the post office in fifteen minutes or so.”
June disappeared, and Wayne paid the two cheques and set out to find a
grocery store. When he had completed his purchasing just one lonesome
nickel remained in his pocket, but he had acquired a modest amount of
cheap coffee, five cents’ worth of butter, a loaf of bread, a can of
condensed milk and some sugar. Five minutes later they were footing it
down the main street of Medfield, Wayne bearing the provisions and
June the horse blanket which was a load in itself. It seemed that June
had not underestimated the distance a particle, nor the difficulties
of travel, for after they had traversed the poorer part of town their
road stopped abruptly and they were forced to take to the railroad
track and, since trains were coming and going frequently, make their
way along by the little path on the side of the embankment. Coal
yards, lumber yards, a foundry, vacant lots heaped with cinders and
rubbish, and, at last, the open country, dotted here and there with
small factories which, possibly because of lower land values, had been
set up on the outskirts of town. June explained that he had found his
way there in the morning by the road, but that the road was “way over
yonder an’ a heap longer.” Presently he pointed out the stamping works,
or tin factory, as he called it, and then directed Wayne’s gaze further
and to the right.
“See that bunch of trees, Mas’ Wayne? See somethin’ jus’ other side of
’em? That’s it, sir!”
“Oh! But it’s a long ways from town, June.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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