AC dBooks

"
The horse-trader did not want to lose Young Pete, but he did want
Annersley's money. "I'll leave it to him," he said, flattering himself
that Pete dare not leave him.
"What do you say, son?"--and old man Annersley turned to Pete. "Would
you like to go along up with me and help me to run my place? I'm kind
o' lonesome up there, and I was thinkin' o' gettin' a pardner."
"Where do you live?" queried Pete, quickly drying his eyes.
"Why, up in those hills, which don't no way smell of liquor and are
tellin' the truth from sunup to sunup. Like to come along and give me
a hand with my stock?"
"You bet I would!"
"Here's your money," said Annersley, and he gave the trader forty
dollars. "Git right in that buckboard, son."
"Hold on!" exclaimed the trader. "The kid stays here. I said fifty
for the outfit."
"I'm goin'," asserted Young Pete. "I'm sick o' gettin' kicked and
cussed every time I come near him. He licked me with a rawhide last
week."
"He did, eh? For why?"
"'Cause he was drunk--that's why!"
"Then I reckon you come with me. Such as him ain't fit to raise young
'uns.


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