George in Camp; or, Life on the PlainsCastlemon, Harry
General
George in Camp; or, Life on the Plains
Castlemon, Harry
Children's stories; Frontier and pioneer life -- Juvenile fiction; West (U.S.) -- Juvenile fiction
George had a good deal to tell, but he did not consume much time with
his narrative, for every moment was precious. He knew that the two
ranchemen had by this time been made acquainted with the deception that
had been practised upon them, and no doubt they were at that very minute
on their way to Mr. Gilbert’s rancho. It was necessary that George
should be well on his way home before they arrived, both to escape the
vengeance they would doubtless visit upon him if they chanced to meet
him, and also to warn his cousin. He described the attack on the camp,
and told how he had concealed himself in the buffalo wallow and watched
the raiders while they were searching the woods. He told of his
accidental meeting with Springer, and repeated, as nearly as he could,
all the conversation he had had with him, so that Mr. Gilbert might be
enabled to judge whether or not his suspicions concerning Uncle John
were correct. He also repeated the conversation he had had with the
ranchemen who spent the night in his camp, and told what he had done to
put them on the wrong scent.
“I didn’t have more than half an hour’s sleep last night,” said George,
in conclusion. “I lay awake turning these matters over in my mind, and I
have thought about them all day. The decision at which I arrived was,
that Ned was not safe here in the settlement, and that I had better take
him out on the plains for a few weeks and let this affair of the stolen
horse blow over; but if he has been shooting cattle, I think I had
better show him the nearest way to the coast and let him go north, where
he came from.”
Mr. Gilbert heard him through without interruption, and when the boy
ceased speaking he leaned back in his chair, looked up at a picture
hanging on the wall over the lounge and rubbed his chin meditatively.
Then he arose and walked up and down the room with his hands behind his
back and his eyes fastened thoughtfully on the floor.
“I don’t think you could decide upon a better plan,” said he, at length.
“Take them both to the coast by the shortest route, put them aboard a
steamer and let them go north on a visit. Ned can come back after the
matter is forgotten, but when that Yankee friend of his gets home, he
had better stay there. We have no use for fellows of his stamp down
here. Your uncle can perhaps settle the matter by giving up the stolen
horse, paying his owner for the trouble he has had, and also paying Cook
for the cattle that were shot. And in regard to yourself, you had better
apply for a new guardian at once.”
“I should be only too glad to do so,” replied George, eagerly, “for home
isn’t home to me any longer. But there’s one question I want to ask you,
Mr. Gilbert: If I should apply for a new guardian, would any of these
things I have told you about Uncle John become known—I mean the plans he
has laid to get me out of the way, so that the property would fall to
Ned?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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