Jim’s blue eyes misted with tears. “Oh, Colonel Clark, you think of everything. No wonder you’re such a good military leader.”
“You can stay on at headquarters with me, Jim. That will give you a roof over your head and three meals a day.” He stared at Jim for a moment and then grinned. “I’ll have to find a buckskin outfit for you too, lad. Even if you are Jim Long-Knife, that ragged blue outfit you’re wearing must be replaced.”
Jim laughed. “These are the clothes the Potawatomis gave me. I have no others. The Shawnees took the ones my mother was taking to Harrodsburg.”
“And you’ll need some work to do, Jim, to keep you out of mischief.”
“I can get a job, I’m sure. Willie told me he could get work for me with Monsieur Gabriel Cerré, the wealthy merchant here. Willie works for him.”
Colonel Clark frowned. “Willie? Who’s Willie?”
Jim seemed surprised. “Willie Watson, sir. The boy we found in the boat the night we took Kaskaskia.”
Clark nodded. “To be sure. I remember you told me about him, but I didn’t notice him that night. What does he do for Monsieur Cerré?”
“He sorts fur pelts and counts them. I saw him yesterday and he has already started the fall work.”
“It sounds like a good job, Jim. Ask Willie to take you to see Monsieur Cerré.”