"Because I chanced to hear him say his typesetter was bound to leave him in
the lurch, and he didn't know where he'd get a man by the first of the
month," Bandy-legs replied promptly.

"There, do you hear that, Jim?" remarked Max.

"Yep. But reckons as how it ain't a-goin' tuh do we uns any good," answered
the boy, dejectedly.

"Why not? By that time your dad's leg ought to be fairly well. And a couple
of us boys could take him down to Carson soon in one of our boats."

Jim looked into the face of his kind friend while Max was speaking. There
were tears in the little chap's eyes.

"Reckon yuh done forget, mistah!" he sighed.

"Now you mean about the trouble your dad fell into on account of that old
farmer; is that it, Jim?" demanded Max.

The boy nodded his head in a forlorn fashion.

"How long ago was this, Jim--about a month?" Max asked.

"Reckon she be all o' that, mistah."

"And did you hear the name of the old farmer whose house had been robbed,
Jim?"

"I never done forgot that. I seems tuh heah it whispered by every leetle