“I never did nothing else; I don’t like nothing else,” replied Joe, dropping his hand, somewhat reassured.
“Who said you are sixteen? Come in and let me have a look at you.”
Joe stepped inside the gate; kind, strong hands drew him within the light that streamed from the kitchen windows and open door.
“Good night, Joe,” said Mrs. Evans.
“Good night,” said Joe.
He had not learned how to say “thank you.”
“They said so,” he replied to the latest question.
“Those men. The Tucker twins. They are seventy, and hale old fellows. I’ll warrant you know how to work. You are not fourteen. You shall do a boy’s work and be a boy. You may grow to be as tall as old Christopher himself. There’s plenty of man-timber in you. Now come and see what the women-folks will say to you.”
Joe shrank back.
“I thought I was going to live with you.”