Bob Burton

"I am afraid I shall have to learn for both of us, Clip."

"Dat's so!" said Clip, in a tone of satisfaction. "Dat'll do just as well."

So Bob was finally obliged to give up teaching Clip in despair. He was led to accept the conclusion of his young protégé that he was never meant for a scholar.

In one respect Bob and Clip shared the prejudices of Mrs. Burton. Neither liked Aaron Wolverton. They felt friendly, however, to Sam Wolverton, the nephew; and more than once Sam, with his appetite unsatisfied at home, came over to Burton's ranch and enjoyed a hearty lunch, thanks to the good offices of Bob Burton.

One day he came over crying, and showed the marks of a severe whipping he had received from his uncle.

"What did you do, Sam?" asked Bob.

Sam mentioned the offense, which was a trifling one, and unintentional besides.

"Your uncle is a brute!" said Bob indignantly.

"Dat's so, Sam," echoed Clip.

"It would do me good to lay the whip over his shoulders."

Sam trembled, and shook his head. He was a timid boy, and such an act seemed to him to border on the foolhardy.

"How old are you, Sam?"

"Fourteen."

"In seven years you will be a man, and he can't tyrannize over you any longer."

"I don't believe I shall live so long," said Sam, despondently.

"Yes, you will. Even in four years, when you are eighteen, your uncle won't dare to beat you."

"Why don't you run away, like I did?" asked Clip, with a bright idea.

But Sam was not of the heroic type. He shrank from throwing himself on the world.

"I should starve," he said. "Would you run away, Clip, if you were in my place?"

"Wouldn't I just!"

"And you, Bob?"

"He wouldn't strike me but once," said Bob, proudly.

"It's all well enough for you, but I think I'm a coward. When my uncle comes at me my heart sinks into my boots, and I want to run away."

"You'll never make a hero, Sam."

"No, I won't. I'm an awful coward, and I know it."

"How is your aunt? Is she any better than your uncle?"

"She's about the same. She don't whip me, but she's got an awful rough tongue. She will scold till she's out of breath."

"How long have you lived with your uncle?"

"About four years. When my father died, he told me to go to Uncle Aaron."

"Didn't he leave any property?"

"Uncle Aaron says he didn't leave a cent, and I suppose it's so; but father told me in his last sickness there'd be some property for me."

"I've no doubt there was, and he cheated you out of it," said Bob indignantly. "That's just my opinion of your uncle."

"Even if it is so, I can't do anything. It'll do no good. But I'd like to know how it is, for Uncle Aaron is all the time twitting me with living on him."

"As if you don't do enough to earn your own living. Why, you work harder than Clip, here, though that isn't saying much," added Bob, with a smile.

Clip showed his white teeth, and seemed to enjoy the joke.

"Spec's I was born lazy," he said, promptly. "Dat ain't my fault, ef I was born so."

"That wouldn't be any excuse with Uncle Aaron," remarked Sam. "He thinks I'm lazy, and says he means to lick the laziness out of me."

"I think we had better hire out Clip to him. He needs a little discipline like that sort."

"Oh golly, massa Bob! I couldn't stand it nohow," said Clip, with a comical expression of alarm. "Massa Wolverton's the meanest white man I ever seed. Wish an earthquake would come and swallow him up."

"Your father was round to see my uncle this morning," said Sam.

"Yes, I know; he went to pay him some interest money."

"Your father is a nice gentleman. I wish I was his nephew," said poor Sam, enviously.

"Yes, Sam; he's always kind. He's a father to be proud of."

"By the way, Sam, I've got some good news for you."

"What is it, Bob?"

"Your uncle carried home a pair of prairie chickens this morning. You'll have one good dinner, at least."

"Where did he get them?"

"I shot them."

"And you gave them to him?" asked Sam, surprised.

"Well, yes, after a little squabble," and Bob related the adventure of the morning.