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Fox, John, 1863-1919

"The Trail of the Lonesome Pine"

It's got to stop NOW!" And as Hale dragged him
off he added to the mountain boy, "and I'm going to begin with you
whenever you say the word." Hale was laughing now.
"You don't seem to understand," he said, "this is my affair."
"I beg your pardon, sir, I don't understand."
"Why, I'm taking care of this little girl."
"Oh, well, you see I didn't know that. I've only been here two
days. But"--his frank, generous face broke into a winning smile--
"you don't go to school. You'll let me watch out for her there?"
"Sure! I'll be very grateful."
"Not at all, sir--not at all. It was a great pleasure and I think
I'll have lots of fun." He looked at June, whose grateful eyes had
hardly left his face.
"So don't you soil your little fist any more with any of 'em, but
just tell me--er--er--"
"June," she said, and a shy smile came through her tears.
"June," he finished with a boyish laugh. "Good-by sir."
"You haven't told me your name."
"I suppose you know my brothers, sir, the Berkleys."
"I should say so," and Hale held out his hand. "You're Bob?"
"Yes, sir."
"I knew you were coming, and I'm mighty glad to see you.


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