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If I could move you there,
I bet I could feed you more than your granny did, while I know I could
keep you cleaner. You could have my bed, a window to look from, and clean
covers." Mickey was thinking aloud. "Having you to come home to would be
lots nicer than nothing. You'd beat a dog all hollow, 'cause you can talk.
If I could get you there, I believe I could be making it. Yes, I believe I
could do a lot better than this, and I believe I'd like you, Peaches, you
are such a game little kid."
"She could lift me with one hand," she panted. "Oh Mickey, take me!
Hurry!"
"Lemme see if I can manage you," said Mickey. "Have you got to be took any
particular way?"
"Mickey, ain't you got folks that beat you?" she asked.
"I ain't got folks now," said Mickey, "and they didn't beat me when I had
them. I'm all for myself--and if you say so, I guess from now on, I'm for
you. Want to go?"
Her arms wound tightly around his neck. Her hot little face pressed
against it.
"Put one arm 'cross my shoulders, an' the other round my legs," she said.


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