"I'm after resarvin' me pet name for the use of me friends! You may
stand with your back to the light or be taking any advantage you want."
"Why, what do you mean?" spluttered Wessner.
"I'm manin'," said Freckles tersely, "to lick a quarter-section of hell
out of you, and may the Holy Vargin stay me before I leave you here
carrion, for your carcass would turn the stummicks of me chickens!"
At the camp that morning, Wessner's conduct had been so palpable an
excuse to force a discharge that Duncan moved near McLean and whispered,
"Think of the boy, sir?"
McLean was so troubled that, an hour later, he mounted Nellie and
followed Wessner to his home in Wildcat Hollow, only to find that he had
left there shortly before, heading for the Limberlost. McLean rode at
top speed. When Mrs. Duncan told him that a man answering Wessner's
description had gone down the west side of the swamp close noon, he left
the mare in her charge and followed on foot. When he heard voices he
entered the swamp and silently crept close just in time to hear Wessner
whine: "But I can't fight you, Freckles.
Pages:
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100