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
“You will find me so every time you try to trample on me,” declared
George, boldly. “I don’t know why you should want to take my herd away
from me, but I do know there’s not a man on the place who would help you
do it. Ah! I forgot you,” thought George, as his eye fell upon the
Mexican cook, who just then crossed the yard, walking slowly and
carrying his head on one side as if he were trying to overhear what
passed between Uncle John and his nephew. “I believe that you are mean
enough to do anything, Master Philip!”
“I intend that you shall obey me,” replied Uncle John, “and if you will
not do it willingly, you must do it unwillingly. I shall discharge Zeke
at once.”
“I don’t see how you can do that,” thought George, as Uncle John turned
on his heel and walked into the house, “for you don’t pay him his wages.
I don’t see how you are going to take my cattle away from me either, for
the first thing will be to find them, and what would Zeke and I be doing
while you were trying to drive them away? I should call it robbery, and
I wouldn’t submit to it.”
The emphatic manner in which the boy nodded his head as he said this,
and the look of determination that settled on his face would have
surprised Uncle John if he could have seen them. The boy was resolved to
hold fast to his property and to stubbornly resist any attempt that
might be made to deprive him of it. It would be an act of gross
injustice to take his earnings away from him, and George found it hard
to believe that his uncle could think seriously of such a thing.
“If he tries it, it will only be in keeping with other mean things he
has done since he has been here,” said George. “He and Ned are coming
down on me harder and harder every month, and I should like to know what
they mean by it.”
George seemed to put a little more energy into his work as he turned
these matters over in his mind, and when at last the bridle was finished
he threw it upon the porch, put the awl and what was left of the
waxed-end ‘carefully away in a box that lay beside him on the ground,
and taking the box in his hand started toward a little shed which stood
a short distance in the rear of the house.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account