human
Billy--I'd give you all I ever hoped to have here or hereafter if I could begin to-night where you are--and with the power to _want_ to keep straight.
gpt
Billy, will you see to a little business for me, and keep mum?
human
I may--go--into camp before Christmas.
gpt
Don't yer! advised the boy magnanimously.
human
I ain't ever going to care again. You can stay here.
gpt
There's two big stacks of young pine trees up to my shack done round in bagging and ticketed to a place down the State. They're Christmas trees for poor kids, and I want you to see to getting them off for me to-morrow or next day, and if Tom Smith airs any remarks, you let on as how they hailed from the bungalow; for that's God's truth, when all's told.
human
They'll go, Jock, you bet!
gpt
And Billy, there's another thing. I want you to go to Gaston's shack; tote water and wood for Joyce--and keep your mouth shut. And lay this by in your constitution. Gaston is a man so far above anything God ever created round here, that you can't understand him, but you _can_ try to chase off the dirty insects that want to sting him. Catch on?
human
Yes
gpt
I'm--I'm going up to Gaston's to-morrow,
human
And now, you old rip, Filmer shook off his strange mood,
gpt
Shall--shall I stay all night with you?