“You bet we are,” replied Billy, while Jim nodded his head several times to give emphasis to his answer.
“Well, don’t you think the time has come to strike?”
“I’ve been thinking so for two—three weeks,” said Billy.
“What I asked you two to meet me here for was to tell you that I’ve made up my mind we must make a move. Old Mr. Stearns, our teacher, is getting meaner every day; he gives us harder lessons than ever, and this afternoon he piled it on so heavy I had to stay after you fellers left. If Sam Bascomb hadn’t sot behind me, and whispered two or three of them words, I would have been stuck there yet.”
“He come mighty nigh catching me, too,” observed Jim McGovern.
“You know we’ve made up our minds to go West to shoot Injuns, and the time has come to go.”
The sparkle of the other boys’ eyes and the flush upon their ruddy faces showed the pleasure which this announcement caused. The bliss of going West to reduce the population of our aborigines had been in their dreams for months, and they were impatient with their chosen leader that he had deferred the delight so long. They were happy to learn at last that the delay was at an end.
“Now I want to know how you fellers have made out,” said Tom, with an inquiring look from one to the other.
“I guess you’ll find we’ve done purty well,” said Jim; “anyways I know I have; I stole my sister’s gold watch the other night and sold it to a peddler for ten dollars.”
“What did you do with the ten dollars?”