"Who told you you could be out o' school, young feller?" John demanded,
dryly. "I'll bet my life you are playin' hookey. You think because your
sister's the teacher you can run wild like a mountain shote. My Lord,
look at your clothes! I'll swear it would be hard to tell whether
you've got on anything or not--that is, anything except mud an' slime.
Have you been tryin' to pull that seine through the creek by yourself?"
The boy, who had a fine head and profile and was stoutly built and
generally good-looking, was too busy with his strings and knots to look
up. "Some fool left it in the creek, and it's laid there for the last
month," he mumbled. "I had to go in after it, and it was all tangled up
and clogged with mud. Dolly knew I wasn't going to school to-day."
"She knew it when you didn't turn up at roll-call, I bound you," Webb
drawled. "Say, do you know a young gal like her ain't strong enough to
lick scholars as sound as they ought to be licked, and thar is _some_
talk about appointin' some able-bodied man that lives close about to
step in an' sort o' clean up two or three times a week. I don't know
but what I'd like the job. A feller that goes as nigh naked as you do
would be a blame good thing to practise on."
"Huh!" the boy sniffed, as he tossed back his shaggy brown hair. "You
talk mighty big. I'd like to see you try to whip me--I shore would."
"Well, I may give you the chance if Dolly calls on me to help 'er out,"
Webb laughed. "Say, I started to tell you a secret, but I won't."
"I already know what it is," George said, with a mischievous grin.
"You say you do?" Webb was caught in the wily fellow's snare.
"Yes, you are going to get married." The boy now burst into a roar of
laughter and threw himself back on the grass. "You and Sue Tidwell are
going to get spliced. The whole valley's talking about it, and hoping
that it will be public like an election barbecue. You with your red
head and freckled face and her with her stub nose and--"
"That will do--that will do!" Webb's frown seemed to deepen the flush
which, fold upon fold, came into his face. "Jokin' is all right, but it
ain't fair to bring in a lady's name."
"Oh no, of course not." The boy continued to laugh through the net
which he had drawn over him. "The shoe is on the other foot now."
"Well, I'm not goin' to tell you the news," Webb declared, with a touch
of propitiation in his voice; and, not a little discomfited, he turned
away, employing a quicker step than usually characterized his movement.
"The young scamp!" he said. "He's gittin' entirely too
forward--entirely, for a boy as young as he is, and me his uncle."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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