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Stratton-Porter, Gene, 1863-1924

"Freckles"

Believe me, I will see that she is fully
protected every hour of the day and night until Jack is located and
disposed of. And I promise you further, that if I fail to move her
father or make him understand the danger, I will maintain a guard over
her until Jack is caught. Now will you go bathe, drink some milk, go to
bed, and sleep for hours, and then be my brave, bright old boy again?"
"Yis," said Freckles simply.
But McLean could see the flesh was twitching on the lad's bones.
"What was it the guard brought there?" McLean asked in an effort to
distract Freckles' thoughts.
"Oh!" Freckles said, glancing where the Boss pointed, "I forgot it! 'Tis
an otter, and fine past believing, for this warm weather. I shot it at
the creek this morning. 'Twas a good shot, considering. I expected to
miss."
Freckles picked up the animal and started toward McLean with it, but
Nellie pricked up her dainty little ears, danced into the swale, and
snorted with fright. Freckles dropped the otter and ran to her head.
"For pity's sake, get her on the trail, sir," he begged.


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