“Pretty sharp,” admitted the boss, with a sly smile. “I’d like t’ know what he’s done.”
“He’s run away from home,” Ruth said quickly.
“Ya-as. They mos’ allus do. But what did he do ’fore he ran away, Miss Ruth?”
The man’s dry, crooked smile held assurance in it. Ruth realized that if she wanted his help—and she did—she must be more open with Mr. Jimson.
“I don’t believe that he has really done anything very bad,” Ruth said gravely. “It was what he was accused of and the punishment threatening him, which made Curly run away.”
“Yes. That’s what we call him. His name is Henry Smith.”
“I’ll be whip-sawed!” exclaimed Jimson. “I like that boy. He give me his real name—he sho’ did. Curly Smith he said ’twas. An’ yit, _that_‘d be as good a disguise as he could ha’ thunk up, mebbe. Smith’s a mighty common name, ain’t it?”
“Curly always was a frank and truthful boy. But he was full of mischief.”
She knew that she had Mr. Jimson’s sympathy for the boy now, so she began to tell him all about Curly. The warehouse boss listened without interruption save for an occasional, “sho’, now!” or “you don’t say!” Her own and Helen’s adventures since they had left home to come South, seemed to amuse Mr. Jimson a great deal, too.
“I’ll be whip-sawed!” he exclaimed, at last. “You little Miss Yanks are the beatenes’—I declar’! Never heard tell of sech gals as you are, travelin’ about alone—jest as perky as young pa’tridges! Sho’ now!”
“My chum and I have gone about a good deal alone. We don’t think it so very strange. ‘Most always my friend’s twin brother is with us.”
“Wal, that don’t make so much difference,” said Mr. Jimson. “Her twin brother? Is he older’n she is?” he added, quite innocently.
“Oh, no,” Ruth admitted, stifling a desire to laugh. “My chum and I feel quite confident of finding our way about all right.”
“Sho’ now! I got a gal at home that’s bigger’n older’n you and Miss Helen and her maw wouldn’t trust her t’ go t’ the Big House for a drawin’ of tea. She’d plumb git lost,” chuckled Mr. Jimson. “But now! about this boy. What d’ yo’ want t’ do about him?”
“Oh, Mr. Jimson!” Ruth cried. “I do so want to be sure that Curly stays here until I can hear from his grandmother. I have written to her and begged her to take him back——”