Boswell's Luck Read Online Free Page B

its journey, the balding farmer limped over beside Erastus and clamped a hand onto the boy’s shoulder.
    â€œGot yer farewells done wit?” Plank asked.
    â€œYessir,” Erastus answered.
    â€œBest. For now on, you got no fambly. Jest work.”
    â€œSir, it’s Sunday,” Erastus objected.
    â€œWon’t be once you shed that good shirt and kick off them shoes. Then it be jest like the rest o’ the days, with plenty to fill it up.”
    â€œBut you promised Ma … ”
    â€œDon’t you sass me, boy!” Plank shouted, backhanding Erastus hard across the forehead. “Boy eats my food, he puts in a day’s labor. Now get yerself ready. And keep yer ’pinions to yerself. Hear?”
    Erastus nodded sourly, and Plank cuffed him again.
    â€œBest you unnerstand, boy. Yer ma offered you to every man from here to Mexico, and nobody else spoke up. She’s off to her new life, and she’s shed herself o’ you. World starts and finishes with Otto Plank now, and if you don’t want worse’n my hand on you, you take it to heart.”
    â€œAnd yer promises to Ma?”
    â€œOh,” he said, laughing. “She didn’t believe ’em anymore’n I did. You do as I tell you, you’ll eat well enough. Maybe in time, I’ll even find you some pocket money.”
    â€œAnd if I don’t?”
    â€œMan’s got a right to shoot a boy who tries to steal a horse,” Plank said, grinning. “Won’t be a soul to say otherwise. No neighbors for miles, you know. Unnerstand how it be?”
    Erastus nodded bitterly. And that very moment he determined to show Otto Plank his heels the first chance that came along.

Chapter Three
    The opportunity for escape didn’t come. What did were hours and hours of back-breaking work that left Erastus haggard and blistered, little more than a ragged, barefooted slave.
    To be truthful, Erastus wasn’t alone in his suffering. Otto Plank had four boys of his own. Peter, who was nearly seventeen, shared the barn loft with Erastus and fourteen-year-old Efrem. The younger boys, Randy and Veston, spread their blankets in an empty stall down below. The whole bunch were locked in the barn by night, and there wasn’t a one of them escaped their father’s harsh words or ready hand. At the slightest sign of rebellion, the old man would take a rawhide strip to the back of the offender.
    Once, when young Veston dropped a china plate at breakfast, Plank bent the child over a chair and whipped him raw.
    â€œThat’s ’nough!” Erastus cried when he could stand Vesty’s howls no longer. “Cain’t you see he’s bleedin’?”
    â€œI can see I got to find another chair,” Plank growled.
    The other boys scurried for cover as Plank headed for Erastus. For a moment he only waited. The scowl on Plank’s face and the upraised strap struck terror. He hadn’t been raised to shy from trouble, but he knew the sting of that strap, and he couldn’t help retreating.
    â€œWhere you goin’, Rat?” Plank called. “Rat! That’s what they call you, ain’t it? Gutter rat. Own ma wouldn’t even take him. Ingrate! Don’t you know more’n to talk back to your betters!”
    â€œBetters?” Erastus shouted. “You may be bigger, but you ain’t better. Why if Pa hadn’t … “
    Erastus never finished. Plank reached out and threw a chair out of the way. Then, like a pouncing wildcat, the big farmer was on the boy. The strap stung Erastus’s neck and shoulders. He flinched as it ripped open his shirt and tortured his ribs.
    â€œHow’s it feel, Rat?” Plank howled as he laid on blow after blow. “I’ll teach you some respect.”
    â€œPa, no!” Peter called. “You’ll lame him. Won’t be no good to us then!”
    â€œPlease, Otto,” Mrs. Plank added as she fought to calm the