Читать книгу The Young Game-Warden онлайн

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"Say, pap," he continued, in a hurried whisper, "don't it beat the world how some folks can make money without ever trying? Now, there's that Joe of our'n. He don't never seem to do much of nothing but just loaf around in the woods with them city fellers that come up here to show their fine guns, and yet he's always got money. He takes mighty good care to keep it hid, too, 'cause I can't never find none of it."

"Is that all you've got to say?" exclaimed Silas impatiently. "I know it as well as you do."

"Well, it ain't all I've got to say, neither," replied Dan. "I've got a heap more, if you will only let me tell you. Old man Warren is out there talking with Joe now. You remember them blue-headed birds you killed for him last year, don't you?"

"Them English partridges?" said Silas with a grin. "I ain't forgot 'em. Old man Warren offered me ten dollars a month if I wouldn't shoot over his grounds, 'cause he wanted them birds pertected till there were lots of 'em; but I wouldn't agree to nothing of the kind. He brung them birds from England on purpose to stock his covers with. They cost him six dollars a pair, and I made more'n forty dollars out of 'em. Well, what of it? I don't care for such trifling things any more."