"I have no doubt of that, my lad," I answered, "and I see that they used you rather roughly, at any rate. One, of the brutes has knocked off a piece of skin from your neck."
"You had better have a little salve rubbed upon your bruises, for wounds in this country have to be attended to without delay," Fred said.
I went to my trunk and got all the healing ointment that we possessed, and offered it for his use—but he firmly declined, and declared that he did not suffer from the effect of his bruises, and that they would soon be well. I turned away disappointed, and inclined to be angry, which the young fellow saw in a moment.
"Don't be cross with me," he said, in such a soft, pleading tone, and he looked into my face with his gentle eyes so full of tears, that all my resentment was banished in a moment. "I will work for you as hard as my strength will allow, but please don't be cross," the boy repeated; "I am very grateful for what you have done for me, and know that I shall never be able to repay you; but don't be cross, will you?"
"No, no; we will never use a cross word to you," Fred said, laying his hand upon the boy's head and patting his check, both of which actions seemed to cause the young fellow excessive alarm. "You may stay here in the store as long as you please, and we will pay you for your labor. When you wish to go, say so, and we will part company without any ill-feeling."
The boy seemed grateful for our kindness, but he did not express it in words; and while he and Fred were talking I rummaged my trunk, and found a number of articles of clothing that were suitable for him, and in which he stood in great need, his garments being somewhat the worse for wear.
"Strip off your stockings and shirt, and put these on," I said, handing him a new pair of socks, and a calico shirt too small for me, but which I thought would answer his purpose.
Again did the tell-tale blood mount in the young fellow's face, and he looked embarrassed and perplexed.
"I would rather not," he said, after a moment's pause, and I saw that he was trembling violently.
"Nonsense—off with your shoes at once," and Fred stooped down to assist him, and in spite of his resistance tore off his ragged stockings, and was about to replace them with mine, when the boy began to cry again.