“They’d be a heap o’ kale in ut, Hop.  His folks is rich, I reckon.  Ef we wuzn’t playin’ the white card—­”

Ignoring this shocking evidence of Humpy’s moral instability, The Hopper became lost in reverie, meditatively drawing at his pipe.

“We ain’t never goin’ to quit playin’ ut square,” he announced, to Mary’s manifest relief.  “I hadn’t ought t’ ‘a’ done th’ dippin’.  It were a mistake.  My ole head wuzn’t workin’ right er I wouldn’t ‘a’ slipped.  But ye needn’t jump on me no more.”

“Wot ye goin’ to do with that kid?  Ye tell me that!” demanded Mary, unwilling too readily to accept The Hopper’s repentance at face value.

“I’m goin’ to take ’im to ‘is folks, that’s wot I’m goin’ to do with ’im,” announced The Hopper.

“Yer crazy—­yer plum’ crazy!” cried Humpy, slapping his knees excitedly.  “Ye kin take ‘im to an orphant asylum an’ tell um ye found ’im in that machine ye lifted.  And mebbe ye’ll git by with ut an’ mebbe ye won’t, but ye gotta keep me out of ut!”

“I found the machine in th’ road, right here by th’ house; an’ th’ kid was in ut all by hisself.  An’ bein’ humin an’ respectible I brought ’im in to keep ‘im from freezin’ t’ death,” said The Hopper, as though repeating lines he was committing to memory.  “They ain’t nobody can say as I didn’t.  Ef I git pinched, that’s my spiel to th’ cops.  It ain’t kidnapin’; it’s life-savin’, that’s wot ut is!  I’m a-goin’ back an’ have a look at that place where I got ‘im.  Kind o’ queer they left the kid out there in the buzz-wagon; mighty queer, now’s I think of ut.  Little house back from the road; lots o’ trees an’ bushes in front.  Didn’t seem to be no lights.  He keeps talkin’ about Chris’mas at his grandpa’s.  Folks must ‘a’ been goin’ to take th’ kid somewheres fer Chris’mas.  I guess it’ll throw a skeer into ’em to find him up an’ gone.”

“They’s rich, an’ all the big bulls’ll be lookin’ fer ’im; ye’d better ’phone the New Haven cops ye’ve picked ‘im up.  Then they’ll come out, an’ yer spiel about findin’ ‘im’ll sound easy an’ sensible like.”

The Hopper, puffing his pipe philosophically, paid no heed to Humpy’s suggestion even when supported warmly by Mary.

“I gotta find some way o’ puttin’ th’ kid back without seein’ no cops.  I’ll jes’ take a sneak back an’ have a look at th’ place,” said The Hopper.  “I ain’t goin’ to turn Shaver over to no cops.  Ye can’t take no chances with ’em.  They don’t know nothin’ about us bein’ here, but they ain’t fools, an’ I ain’t goin’ to give none o’ ’em a squint at me!”

He defended his plan against a joint attack by Mary and Humpy, who saw in it only further proof of his tottering reason.  He was obliged to tell them in harsh terms to be quiet, and he added to their rage by the deliberation with which he made his preparations to leave.