Boswell's Luck Read Online Free Page A

to hear folks talk, Ma, I’d as soon take my chances in Austin.”
    â€œAnd how would you get there, Erastus?”
    â€œRide my horse.”
    â€œYour horse? That pony doesn’t belong to you, son, no more’n this cabin or the creek. Everything’s Orville Hanks’s property.”
    â€œI’ll walk.”
    â€œNo, I’ll write Aunt Cordelia and send my regrets. I couldn’t sleep knowin’ you were out walkin’ the wilds, food for wolves or target for Comanche arrows.”
    â€œAin’t any Comanches out here anymore. I got a talent for fishin’, and I got a good eye with a rifle. Wouldn’t go hungry.”
    â€œI won’t go unless I know you’ve got a roof over your head, Rastus.”
    â€œMa, I really ought to look after you and the little ones.”
    â€œWe’ll be all right. I’ll see even Marcus writes you a letter every week.”
    â€œWouldn’t be forever, would it? I mean, I wouldn’t have to stay if I didn’t like it.”
    â€œNo, and Mr. Hanks promised to keep an eye after you. By next summer you’ll have some growth, and he’s certain to take you on.”
    â€œIf it just wasn’t the Planks. That man’s mean.”
    â€œHe’s promised to be kind,” Georgiana assured him. “I’ll speak with the Morrises, too. Perhaps they can come by and take you to Sunday meetings. That’d give you and Mitch some time.”
    â€œYes, ma’am.”
    â€œThen you’re agreeable to it, I take it?”
    Erastus rubbed his chin and studied his mother’s hopeful eyes. He’d promised his father to see to her needs. Wasn’t that what he was doing, staying with the Planks so she and the little ones could go to Austin? His insides grew cold at the notion of living under Plank’s iron fist, but he nodded his consent. After all, how bad could things be?
    It wasn’t long before telegrams flashed south to Austin and back north again. The last Sunday in April Georgiana drove her family toward Thayerville. In the open bed were three trunks full of the family’s meager possessions. It didn’t seem a lot to show for the good years they’d shared at the Hanks line camp.
    The wagon halted but twice on its way into Thayerville. The first time was at the river crossing where a Methodist circuit preacher held the county’s biweekly meeting. The final stop was in front of the ramshackle house where Otto and Virginia Plank made their home.
    â€œGot to go now,” Erastus announced as he tossed a flour sack filled with his father’s razor, a good skinning knife, and two patched cotton shirts onto the hard ground. He gave Juliana a good hug, wrapped a spare arm around a sobbing Marcus, and gripped Alex’s wrist.
    â€œBe missin’ you awful,” the eleven-year-old whimpered.
    â€œNo, you’ll be too busy with the horses,” Erastus argued. “You got to be the big brother now. It’s a hard job, but you’ll do just fine at it.”
    â€œWe won’t stay little forever, Ras.”
    â€œNo, we won’t,” Erastus agreed. “Then we’ll get the bunch o’ us together and talk over old times. Likely we’ll have some tales to swap then.”
    â€œYou take care o’ yourself, Ras.”
    â€œLook after Ma and the tadpoles.”
    â€œDo my best at it,” Alex promised.
    Erastus darted over and gave his mother a parting hug. Then he stepped back and somberly waved good-bye. He imagined how tall they’d all be next time they were together. Why, he’d hardly recognize them!
    â€œWon’t be long till you come down for a visit,” Georgiana called. “Mr. Plank promised you five dollars a week and Sundays off.”
    â€œThat right?” Erastus asked, turning to where Otto Plank stood on the porch.
    Plank said nothing. Instead he waved and grinned good-naturedly. Once the wagon resumed