They don't know nothin' about us bein' here, but they
ain't fools, an' I ain't goin' to give none o' 'em a squint at me!"

He defended his plan against a joint attack by Mary and Humpy, who saw in
it only further proof of his tottering reason. He was obliged to tell
them in harsh terms to be quiet, and he added to their rage by the
deliberation with which he made his preparations to leave.

He opened the door of a clock and drew out a revolver which he examined
carefully and thrust into his pocket. Mary groaned; Humpy beat the air in
impotent despair. The Hopper possessed himself also of a jimmy and an
electric lamp. The latter he flashed upon the face of the sleeping Shaver,
who turned restlessly for a moment and then lay still again. He smoothed
the coverlet over the tiny form, while Mary and Humpy huddled in the
doorway. Mary wept; Humpy was awed into silence by his old friend's
perversity. For years he had admired The Hopper's cleverness, his genius
for extricating himself from difficulties; he was deeply shaken to think
that one who had stood so high in one of the most exacting of professions
should have fallen so low. As The Hopper imperturbably buttoned his coat
and walked toward the door, Humpy set his back against it in a last
attempt to save his friend from his own foolhardiness.

"Ef anybody turns up here an' asks for th' kid, ye kin tell 'em wot I
said. We finds 'im in th' road right here by the farm when we're doin' th'
night chores an' takes 'im in t' keep 'im from freezin'. Ye'll have th'
machine an' kid here to show 'em. An' as fer me, I'm off lookin' fer his
folks."

Mary buried her face in her apron and wept despairingly. The Hopper,
noting for the first time that Humpy was guarding the door, roughly pushed
him aside and stood for a moment with his hand on the knob.

"They's things wot is," he remarked with a last attempt to justify his
course, "an' things wot ain't. I reckon I'll take a peek at that place an'
see wot's th' best way t' shake th' kid. Ye can't jes' run up to a house
in a machine with his folks all settin' round cryin' an' cops askin'
questions. Ye got to do some plannin' an' thinkin'. I'm goin' t' clean ut
all up before daylight, an' ye needn't worry none about ut. Hop ain't
worryin'; jes' leave ut t' Hop!"

There was no alternative but to leave it to Hop, and they stood mute as he
went out and softly closed the door.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

V

The snow had