THE Nick Adams STORIES Read Online Free

who ruleth his spirit is greater than he that taketh a city,” said his wife. She was a Christian Scientist. Her Bible, her copy of
Science and Health
and her
Quarterly
were on a table beside her bed in the darkened room.
    Her husband did not answer. He was sitting on his bed now, cleaning a shotgun. He pushed the magazine full of the heavy yellow shells and pumped them out again. They were scattered on the bed.
    â€œHenry,” his wife called. Then paused a moment. “Henry!”
    â€œYes,” the doctor said.
    â€œYou didn’t say anything to Boulton to anger him, did you?”
    â€œNo,” said the doctor.
    â€œWhat was the trouble about, dear?”
    â€œNothing much.”
    â€œTell me, Henry. Please don’t try and keep anything from me. What was the trouble about?”
    â€œWell, Dick owes me a lot of money for pulling his squaw through pneumonia and I guess he wanted a row so he wouldn’t have to take it out in work.”
    His wife was silent. The doctor wiped his gun carefully witha rag. He pushed the shells back in against the spring of the magazine. He sat with the gun on his knees. He was very fond of it. Then he heard his wife’s voice from the darkened room.
    â€œDear, I don’t think, I really don’t think that anyone would really do a thing like that.”
    â€œNo?” the doctor said.
    â€œNo. I can’t really believe that anyone would do a thing of that sort intentionally.”
    The doctor stood up and put the shotgun in the corner behind the dresser.
    â€œAre you going out, dear?” his wife said.
    â€œI think I’ll go for a walk,” the doctor said.
    â€œIf you see Nick, dear, will you tell him his mother wants to see him?” his wife said.
    The doctor went out on the porch. The screen door slammed behind him. He heard his wife catch her breath when the door slammed.
    â€œSorry,” he said, outside her window with the blinds drawn.
    â€œIt’s all right, dear,” she said.
    He walked in the heat out the gate and along the path into the hemlock woods. It was cool in the woods even on such a hot day. He found Nick sitting with his back against a tree, reading.
    â€œYour mother wants you to come and see her,” the doctor said.
    â€œI want to go with you,” Nick said.
    His father looked down at him.
    â€œAll right. Come on, then,” his father said. “Give me the book; I’ll put it in my pocket.”
    â€œI know where there’s black squirrels, Daddy,” Nick said.
    â€œAll right,” said his father. “Let’s go there.”

Ten Indians
    After one Fourth of July, Nick, driving home late from town in the big wagon with Joe Garner and his family, passed nine drunken Indians along the road. He remembered there were nine because Joe Garner, driving along in the dusk, pulled up the horses, jumped down into the road and dragged an Indian out of the wheel rut. The Indian had been asleep, face down in the sand. Joe dragged him into the bushes and got back up on the wagon box.
    â€œThat makes nine of them,” Joe said, “just between here and the edge of town.”
    â€œThem Indians,” said Mrs. Garner.
    Nick was on the back seat with the two Garner boys. He was looking out from the back seat to see the Indian where Joe had dragged him alongside of the road.
    â€œWas it Billy Tabeshaw?” Carl asked.
    â€œNo.”
    â€œHis pants looked mighty like Billy.”
    â€œAll Indians wear the same kind of pants.”
    â€œI didn’t see him at all,” Frank said. “Pa was down into the road and back up again before I seen a thing. I thought he was killing a snake.”
    â€œPlenty of Indians’ll kill snakes tonight, I guess,” Joe Garner said.
    â€œThem Indians,” said Mrs. Garner.
    They drove along. The road turned off from the main highway and went up into the hills. It was hard pulling for the horses and the boys got down