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Then she called once more. "Bob! Bob Henderson! Where are you? I want you to go to the store." "Here I am, mother. Were you calling me?" asked a boy, emerging from behind a big apple tree. He was not a bad-looking lad, even if his nose did turn up a bit, though his hair was tinged with red, and his face covered with freckles. His blue eyes, however, seemed to sparkle with mischief.
Freckles never tired of studying the devotion of a fox mother to her babies. To him, whose early life had been so embittered by continual proof of neglect and cruelty in human parents toward their children, the love of these furred and feathered folk of the Limberlost was even more of a miracle than to the Bird Woman and the Angel. The Angel liked the baby rabbits and squirrels.
That cream-white skin of hers, too, found objectors, on the score of a slight powdering of freckles; spots which the kindly sun leaves on the fruit he best loves.
I wouldn't have had you hear that for the world, but since you have, dear girl, you must be told that it isn't your friendship or your kindness Freckles wants; it is your love." The Angel looked straight into the great surgeon's eyes with her clear, steady orbs of blue, and then into McLean's with unwavering frankness. "Well, I do love him," she said simply. McLean's arms dropped helplessly.
The little girl knew that the carrot-eating was useless, since the spot was only the mark of an unsuccessful attempt at tattooing; but she did not care to explain. Then, the cowbird had been sent away; and, as a last blow, she had been told to go to school. There was no doubt in her mind that her misfortunes were due wholly to the fact that she had precisely thirteen freckles on her pink nose.
"The chance that me an' Red Linton will be able to get things into shape to look out for you." He was gravely serious. "It must seem a mighty slim chance to you me comin' here with a reputation that ain't any too good, an' Linton, with his red head an' his freckles. Seems like a woman would go all wrong, pinnin' her faith to red hair an' freckles an' a hell-raisin' outlaw.
I'll bet she don't know nothin' 'bout Her," said Flibbertigibbet in a triumphant aside to Freckles. The Marchioness' eyes opened wider upon the two children across the way. "That is the mother of Our Lord, isn't it?" she said in her dumb way. The two children nodded; no words seemed to come readily just then, for Alice Maud Mary had given them a surprise. They crossed themselves.
Now will you be standing up and taking your medicine like a man, or getting it poured down the throat of you like a baby? I ain't got enough! This is only just the beginning with me. Be looking out there!" He sprang against Wessner and sent him rolling. He attacked the unresisting figure and fought him until he lay limp and quiet and Freckles had no strength left to lift an arm.
This his freckles plainly showed, his equanimity not being restored by the ill- concealed titters of the men standing by, for they had overheard most of what had been said, and repeated the substance of the conversation to me afterwards.
And after they had conspired to make him appear a runaway thief to his loved ones, what was it that Wessner would do to him? Whatever it was, Freckles lifted his head and resolved that he would bear in mind what he had once heard the Bird Woman say. He would go out bonnily. Never would he let them see, if he grew afraid.
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