"They gave me a young mouthpiece," the Kid was beginning, when Danner raised his head and said:
"Now you fellows cut that out, do you hear? I want to get my work done and start."
"I beg your pardon, papa," said the Kid; "we’re anxious to start, too. Did you engage a lower berth for me?"
The line of miserable men laughed, not with mirth so much as for the sake of any diversion, and at the laugh Danner’s face and neck colored a deeper red. The Kid saw this change in color and went on:
"Please don’t laugh, gentlemen; you’re disturbing the main screw." And then, lifting his eyebrows, he leaned forward a little and said: "Can’t I help you, papa?"
Danner paid no attention, but he was rapidly growing angry.
"I’d be glad to sling your ink for you, papa," the Kid went on, "and anyway you’d better splice yourself in the middle of the line before we start, or you might get lost. You know you’re not used to traveling or to the ways of the world--"
"Cheese it, Kid," said the Deacon warningly. But the spirit of deviltry which he had never been able to resist, and indeed had never tried very hard to resist, was upon the Kid, and he went on:
"Deac, pipe the preacher clothes! And the brand new kicks, and the mush! They must have put him on the nut for ten ninety-eight."
"He’ll soak you with a sap if you don’t cheese it," said the Deacon.
"Oh, no, a nice old pappy guy like him wouldn’t, would you?" the Kid persisted. "He knows I’m speaking for his good. I want him to chain himself to us so’s he won’t get lost; if he’d get away and fall off the rattler, he’d never catch us again."
"Well, I could catch you all right," said Danner, stopping and looking up.
"Why, my dear boy," said the Kid, "you couldn’t track an elephant through the snow."
The line laughed again, even the under-turnkeys could not repress their smiles. But Danner made a great effort that showed in the changing hues of scarlet that swept over his face, and he choked down his anger. He put on his overcoat and picked up his satchel, and said:
Utter unlocked the outer doors, and the line of men filed out.
"Good-by, Bud," the Kid called to Utter. "If you ever get down to the dump, look me up."
The others bade Utter good-by, for they all liked him, and as the line shuffled down the stone steps the men eagerly inhaled the fresh air they had not breathed for weeks, save for the few minutes consumed in going over to the court-house and back, and a thrill of gladness momentarily ran through the line. Then the Kid called out: