"Pop owes me thirty-nine cents for a hack saw."
"I'll give the hack saw back," Pop offered quickly.
"I don't want it. I want thirty-nine cents."
"Oh, for pete's sake!"
Pop took a purse from his pocket, counted out thirty-nine cents, and
passed it through the bars. Jeff pocketed the money.
"What's the next town?"
"Stay right in the valley. Seven miles down, you'll come to Delview. You
can't miss, and heaven help Delview if they pick you up!"
"Any other place?"
"North through the mountains there's Smithville. Better not try it,
there's no direct road and those mountains are plenty rugged."
"Good town, though," Ike called. "That constable in Smithville, he
minds his own business most of the time. So does most ever'body else. It
pays, in Smithville."
"Wild place, huh?"
"Not wild," Ike declared. "Just sensible."
"I'll go to Delview," Jeff decided.
"That's worse'n Cressman," Ike snorted. "They jail you there for lookin'
cross-eyed."
"You got to go now," Joe pointed out. "You took Pop's money."
"Open the cell."
"'Bye, Jeff," Ike called. "Me'n Bucky may be seeing you."
"Take care of yourselves."
Outside, instead of going to the main street, Jeff slipped behind the
court house. Two more moving shadows in a place of shadows, he and Pal
flitted past a cluster of lilacs and darted to a patch of trees. They
threaded their way through the town, always alert and careful.
Again on the outskirts of Cressman, Jeff heaved a sigh of relief and
walked swiftly down the road. Once more Pal had saved the day;
apparently Pop and the constable had wanted only, and wholeheartedly, to
be rid of them. Jeff felt a little saddened. The shining name of Tarrant
Enterprises, Ltd., had become a little tarnished in Cressman. The
concern had spent money and earned little enough.