“A lazy, shiftless boy!” said Brackett, warmly. “He had a good place here, and I looked after him as if he had been my own son; but he didn’t do his duty.”
“He didn’t say anything about that,” said Andy, gravely.
“No, I reckon not. Did he say anything about me?” asked Brackett.
“He said you and he couldn’t get along very well.”
“All his own fault,” returned the farmer, who wished to remove any prejudice which Peter’s story may have excited in the mind of Andy. “He had as nice a home as any boy would want, and easy work; but some boys are never satisfied. Was you looking for work?”
“I thought I might hire out for a while.”
“What do you call yourself?”
“Henry Miller.”
“Was you raised near here?”
“Not very.”