"The dirty whelp!" growled the General.
"If you can see me out of the trouble, General, I'd like to jump on him and beat the life out of him next time he comes out here!"
The General frowned.
"Don't you touch him,—any more than you would a pole cat. I've trouble enough just now."
"I could knock the mud out of him in two minutes, if you say the word," said Allan eagerly.
"Yes, I've no doubt of it." The General looked at him thoughtfully.
He was a well knit powerful youth just turned his fifteenth birthday. He had red hair, a freckled face, and florid complexion. His features were regular and pleasing, and his stalwart muscular figure gave him a handsome look that impressed one with indomitable physical energy. His lips were full and sensuous, his eyebrows straight, and his high forehead spoke of brain power as well as horse power.
He had a habit of licking his lips and running his tongue around inside of his cheeks when he saw anything or heard anything that pleased him that was far from intellectual in its suggestiveness. When he did this one could not help feeling that he was looking at a young well fed tiger. There was no doubt about his being alive and that he enjoyed it. His boisterous voice and ready laughter emphasised this impression.
"Allan, my boy," said the General when he had examined his accounts, "if you do everything in life as well as you did these books, you'll make a success."
"I'm going to do my best to succeed, General. I'll not be a poor white man. I'll promise you that."
"Do you go to church anywhere?"
"No sir, Maw's not a member of any church, and it's so far to town I don't go."
