Читать книгу The Young Game-Warden онлайн

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"Not our Joe!" exclaimed Silas, who was fairly staggered by this unexpected piece of news.

"Yes, our Joe—nobody else."

"No, you didn't tell me that," replied his father.

"Then it's 'cause you want to do all the talking yourself, and won't let me say a word," retorted Dan. "Yes, that Joe of our'n has got the job. He's going to have a nice house, with a carpet onto the floor, to live in, and the grub he'll have to eat will be just the same kind that old man Warren has onto his table at home. Just think of that, pap! You'll have to look around for some cheap boy to help you run the ferry from now till winter, 'cause I'm going up there to live with Joe, and help him keep an eye on them birds."

"Dan!" shouted Mr. Morgan, pushing up his sleeves, and looking about the room as if he wanted to find some missile to throw at the boy's head—"Dan, for two cents I'd—"

The ferryman suddenly paused, for he found he was talking to the empty air.

When he began pushing up his sleeves, Dan jumped for the door, and now all that Silas could see of him was one of his eyes, which looked at him through a crack about half an inch wide.