Page 54 - A Hero of Ticonderoga

"I’d ha’ gin a dozen mushrat skins to seen him when he got the tree down
and didn’t find you, and him like a fool dog a barkin’ up a tree an hour arter

the coon’d left it. You done right to come to me, for he won’t come here to
look for ye right off. And then when he’s had time to cool off and git

ashamed of himself, you can go home."

"No," said the boy quickly; "I’ll never go back till I’m old enough to lick

him and make him sorry I come."

"Oh, well, you think you will. But you won’t never. The rough edge’ll be
wore off afore you git round to it. Once I swore I’d thrash a schoolmarster I
hed, and when I went to do it we jes’ sot down and talked over old times,

like ol’ friends. But what’ll your mother and sis do without you?"

"They’ll be better off without me. I can’t help mother any, nor she me, yet
awhile. Can’t you let her know I’m safe some way?"

"Oh, yes, I’ll happen round there some day to rights. How in tunket did she
ever come to mate wi’ that surly red-haired dog? You know I hain’t seen her

since they was married. Women is onaccountable critters, anyhow, an’ I’ve
been marcifully presarved from ever bein’ tackled to one on ’em;" yet he
sighed, as he looked about the littered room, that showed so plainly the lack

of housewifely care.

After the supper of fried venison and johnny-cake was eaten, they sat in the
twilight and firelight talking over the past and plans for the future, till the
boy, worn out with the events of the day, was given a nest of furs in the

loft, where he would be safe from detection by any chance visitor, and Job,
after barring the door and carefully covering the fire, betook himself with

the hound to their accustomed couch on the floor.