Still staring, the little boy began slowly to shake his head in negation.
"What's yer name, Squair? What's yer name?"
But the child still stared silently, either uncomprehending or perceiving
that his safety lay in incompetency.
Clenk rose to his feet in sudden relief. "He don't sense nuthin'! He's
too little to talk. He can't tell wuth shucks! We will jes' leave him
hyar in the road, an' the folks that find what's down thar in the valley
will find him too. I wonder somebody ain't passed a'ready. An' sure
we-uns oughter be a-travellin'."
But Holvey revolted against this offhand assumption of confidence. He
made a supplemental effort on his own account. "Why don't ye tell yer
name, Bubby?" he asked cajolingly.
"'Tause," the child answered abruptly, "I tan't talk."
Copenny burst into sudden sardonic laughter, with wondrous little mirth
in the tones, and the other miscreants were obviously disconcerted and
disconsolate, while the small schemer, whose craft had failed midway,
looked affrighted and marvelling from one to another, at a loss to
interpret the mischance.
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