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Freckles by Gene Stratton Porter
Book, page 11 / 231



"I didn't even have to steal clothes to get rid of starting in me
Home ones," Freckles continued, "for they had already taken all me
clean, neat things for the boy and put me into his rags, and that
went almost as sore as the beatings, for where I was we were always
kept tidy and sweet-smelling, anyway. I hustled clear into this
State before I learned that man couldn't have kept me if he'd
wanted to. When I thought I was good and away from him, I
commenced hunting work, but it is with everybody else just as it
is with you, sir. Big, strong, whole men are the only ones for
being wanted."

"I have been studying over this matter," answered McLean. "I am not
so sure but that a man no older than you and similar in every way
could do this work very well, if he were not a coward, and had it
in him to be trustworthy and industrious."

Freckles came forward a step.

"If you will give me a job where I can earn me food, clothes, and
a place to sleep," he said, "if I can have a Boss to work for like
other men, and a place I feel I've a right to, I will do precisely
what you tell me or die trying."

He spoke so convincingly that McLean believed, although in his
heart he knew that to employ a stranger would be wretched business
for a man with the interests he had involved.

"Very well," the Boss found himself answering, "I will enter you on
my pay rolls. We'll have supper, and then I will provide you with
clean clothing, wading-boots, the wire-mending apparatus, and
a revolver. The first thing in the morning, I will take you the
length of the trail myself and explain fully what I want done.
All I ask of you is to come to me at once at the south camp and
tell me as a man if you find this job too hard for you. It will not
surprise me. It is work that few men would perform faithfully.
What name shall I put down?"

Freckles' gaze never left McLean's face, and the Boss saw the
swift spasm of pain that swept his lonely, sensitive features.

 
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