Soon he had them coming--red, gray, and black; then he became filled with a vast impatience that he did not know their names or habits.
So the winter passed.

Every week McLean rode to the Limberlost; never on the same day or at the same hour.

Always he found Freckles at his work, faithful and brave, no matter how severe the weather.
The boy's earnings constituted his first money; and when the Boss explained to him that he could leave them safe at a bank and carry away a scrap of paper that represented the amount, he went straight on every payday and made his deposit, keeping out barely what was necessary for his board and clothing.

What he wanted to do with his money he did not know, but it gave to him a sense of freedom and power to feel that it was there--it was his and he could have it when he chose.

In imitation of McLean, he bought a small pocket account-book, in which he carefully set down every dollar he earned and every penny he spent.