Just
after breakfast Harry Hazelton had borrowed the only horse in camp,
belonging to Jim Ferrers, their cook and guide, and had ridden away
for the day.
Barely had Hazelton departed when Alf Drew, hungry, lonely and
wistful, had happened along. He asked for "a job." There really
wasn't one for him, but good-natured Reade created one, offering
five dollars a month and board.
"No telling, young man, how long the job will last," Tom warned him.
"We may at any hour break camp and get away."
But Alf had taken the job and gratefully. Not until after the noon
meal had the little fellow revealed his unfortunate vice for
cigarette smoking.
"You've simply got to give up that habit, Alf" Tom urged, as they
walked along.
"You can't make me," retorted young Drew. "You've no right to."
"No, I haven't," Tom admitted soberly. "If I had any real rights
over you I'm afraid I'd turn you over my knee and spank you, three
times a day, until you gave up the beastly habit."
"You're not going to bounce me, are you?" asked Alf.
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