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"Wal, now, sonny, you ain’t really wantin’ this here book back? Never knowed any li’l boy what warn’t glad to see th’ last o’ a book. Better git away from a real man ’fore you gits yore backside warmed. That’s what th’ teacher does to smarty kids, ain’t it?" "You’d better watch out, Sam." Again the tall man cut in.
Sam was still grinning, but there was a curve of lip which was far from any real humor, even that provoked by the practical jokes of a barracks bully. "One of them kids had been sayin’ as how he rode with Forrest, regular li’l red-hot Reb, he is. Stomp all over us ... that’s what you Rebs has been promisin’ to do, ain’t it? Gonna stomp all over any Blue Bellies as comes into this town?
“Not me; I can’t ride,” wailed Fanny. “You can get up Torpedo for Mrs. Hosmer, can’t you, Grégoire?” asked Thérèse. “Certainly. W’y you could ride ole Torpedo, Mrs. Hosma, if you nova saw a hoss in yo’ life. A li’l chile could manage him.” Fanny turned to Thérèse for further assurance and found all that she looked for.
An’ seem’ as how they was only one company hereabouts—Howard’s Rangers—they didn’t try. That’s when Johnny Shannon had his big bust-up with his pa an’—" "His father!" Drew could not help that exclamation. "Wal, Don Cazar ain’t Johnny’s real pa, o’ course. But he shore thinks th’ world an’ all of Johnny, raising him up from a li’l cub.
Fenner signaled once more and the train began the slower trip southward. Drew sat watching the dust arise again as the trio of riders pounded away. He could no longer make out individual riders, just the rising dust. Rennie on his way to Johnny Shannon ... What had Fenner said-"li’l cub ... warn’t more ’n four." Drew Rennie at four—hard to sort out one very early memory from another.
"Looky what we’ve got us here! Regular li’l schoolhouse right in this cantina!" The table moved an inch or so as a thick body brought up with a rush against it. A hand, matted with sun-bleached hair, made a grab for the book Drew had just laid down.
Before the startled Kentuckian could pull it back from that grasp, hand and book were gone, and the trooper who had taken it was reeling back to the bar, waving the trophy over his head. "Schoolhouse ... right here ..." he mouthed. "Sittin’ there ... two li’l boys, studyin’ their lessons. Now, ain’t that somethin’?" A chair went over with a crash.
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