"Not for the world! I wouldn't be having a stranger around, scaring me birds and tramping up me study, and disturbing all me ways, for any money! I am all the guard you need! I will be faithful! I will turn over the lease with no tree missing--on me life, I will! Oh, don't be sending another man to set them saying I turned coward and asked for help.

It will just kill the honor of me heart if you do it.

The only thing I want is another gun.

If it railly comes to trouble, six cartridges ain't many, and you know I am slow-like about reloading." McLean reached into his hip pocket and handed a shining big revolver to Freckles, who slipped it beside the one already in his belt.
Then the Boss sat brooding.
"Freckles," he said at last, "we never know the timber of a man's soul until something cuts into him deeply and brings the grain out strong.
You've the making of a mighty fine piece of furniture, my boy, and you shall have your own way these few weeks yet.

Then, if you will go, I intend to take you to the city and educate you, and you are to be my son, my lad--my own son!" Freckles twisted his finger in Nellie's mane to steady himself.
"But why should you be doing that, sir ?" he faltered.
McLean slid his arm around the boy's shoulder and gathered him close.
"Because I love you, Freckles," he said simply.
Freckles lifted a white face.