Frank of Freedom Hill

ated barrel of his air rifle, which he had poked through a knot hole. Out there on the ground between the barn and the corn field he

nd old Frank. Now and then, at some slight movement of the boy, he pricked his ears in the direction of this miniature stalker of game. The rest of the time

ind them the barn lot blazed in the afternoon sun. The somnolence of a farmyard mid-afterno

nded to do that. He had merely shot at a raucous jaybird in a tree, and the upstairs window pane, the innocent bystander, as it were, had fallen inward with a sharp ti

mean to, Papa!

old man," Steve Earle had said; "

r rifle was his first love. Since the warning he had used the horizon as a backstop for all his shots. Old Frank, who had followed him around at firs

he born hunter, tireless like the patience of the cat watching at the mouse hole, he waited for sparrows to come. His face

corn and tobacco and cotton crops were the talk of the county; his horses were pedigreed; his mules sleek; his chickens the finest. Among t

boasting to the sober harem that followed him. Suddenly he raised his head; his beady eyes glittered; he hurried greedily t

Tommy throug

rary annoyance of a small boy yelling at him through a knothole, he hurried into the very midst of the crumbs. He picked one up; he

ground, just to show how grandly careless he could be in the midst of such profusion.

ed the boy a

he ran round the barn and burst into the midst of the feasters. A wild scattering ensued. Cackling and squawking, the valiant Pete led the retreat through

ad was very small, his face very narrow, and he had a receding forehead. More likely, though, his enormous vanity lay at the bottom of it. He would show these wives of his, in w

ity aside. He ran ingloriously away, jumping high into the air when clods of dirt like exploding bombs stru

!" screamed the

offspring, was something which he, as a dog of honour, could never think of doing. He did look with a touch of regretful longing at the fleeing rooster; he pr

o 'count!" s

ation very well; his character was thoroughly established, his life an open book. Just now the boy was beside himself wi

ll gone. The nimble bills of the hens, the greedy, overbearing beak of the rooster, had gobbled

t Cindy, big, fat, black, her head tied up in a red banda

ety an' nine

elter ob

d wandered

de street

nd in the presence of his eager reque

o wid mo' bread,

oy with a burst of optimism, forgetting for th

urn and waddled across the floor to the

n' 'em, honey?"

d the

bread or butter or jam. Finally, she gave him the bread and let him go. Down the back steps he came, running eage

ountings he h

pless an' re

he corn, almost to the pasture. The second time he tried to corral him and the hens and drive the

hicken yard Pete went, followed by the excited hens. Then he seemed to suspect some sort of trap or hidden mi

n interval, came Pete. Not only to-day, but to-morrow and the next day and through all th

r the last time, r

rted Pete, throw

risky young mule wheeled around and kicked the bars continuously like a rapid-fire gun. Old Frank, who had lain soberly down, sprang to his feet with pricke

hey reached him, beating the ground with lusty wings, sliding his limp head

up!" sa

he barn hid what was going on from the yard. Only Frank had seen, and Frank never told anything. Tommy leaned his

," he coaxed. "

into his eye and into his brain, if he had any, the BB shot had gone. Pete would never eat any more crumbs. Breathing fast, the boy looked at Frank. Ears drooped, eyes worrie

Chick!

lamity. Again the old woman called. Then she spoke, and Tommy's heart jumped up into his mouth. His fat

dat rooster?" as

"I haven't got

st to come when dey's anything to eat. Somethin' done

ng across the weeds at the side of the barn. A short distance in the opposite direction was

ion when her eyes fel

lled gently, "w

nted to. Then he heard her grunt and sigh as she stooped down. When he peeped cautiously aroun

one, but for what he had not done. He would stay here till dark. He would stay here all night. He never would go home any more. He would hide in the woods, and he

wanted him. He wasn't going to them, and he wasn't going to run, either. They would try to take his gun away now. There was a lump in his throat as he thought of the injus

row him down and beat him into insensibility. To the end he would cling to his gun, asking no quarter, making no explanati

man?" asked

with sudden hope beyond the belt and the shirt into the

e said. "I w

ho kille

such things come, by inspiration. There stood old Frank, gently wagging his tail. Frank had nothing to lose; nothing would

lled him!

th uncertainty. Then his mother spok

, de

strated Aunt Cindy, "

ght, old scout," said Earle gravely. "Just as you say. We'll go back to the

tion, and now there wasn't going to be any fight at all. At first he thought his father must have understood and become particeps

ad really killed the rooster, and he had only spoken the truth. Then he began to feel proud in a secret sort of way. It had been quite a stroke.

ut she would get over it; he would be unusually loving to her. Really, all one had t

ve been. He felt some of the loneliness of genius. And when in the back yard his father turned a

es troubled. Earle led him to the kennel at the side of the house and chaine

give you time to think about it

a!" cried the boy, the b

ave to cure Frank, right now, before killing chickens got to be a habit. They

the pasture to see about the cattle. But now old Frank was chained up. And when his father asked him to come along, he shook his head. He didn't wan

nt to go,"

nd went off alone, through

h his mother a little later in the living room, though sh

inst her knee; she brushed his hair back

t, dear?"

n' to whip F'an

es-he h

'ank to k

a grown dog-h

angry-angry at he

kill any mo

o you

d, and stamped hi

about in the dining room. No use to appeal to her. She knew too much, anyhow, that old woman. There was in

er his arm, sauntered round the house to the kennel. Old Frank came to meet him as far as the chain would allow. Frank thought he was going to be turned loos

e up the back steps, and into the room with the boy's mother. Through the open window just above the kennel he

he boy?" a

Steve-he went

he spoke, with a little laugh

s pitiful,

Mother-but it's

suppose it d

ather who wa

pretty tough, Mothe

nk was to be whipped. They weren't even interested enough in the matter to speak of it. They just talked-that was all. They didn't care anything about him and Frank, or what beca

g proportions. In the woods beyond the pasture was a cave, which he and Frank could reach before dark. Then they would ri

's fire. The entrance to the cave was pretty dark and "snaky"; maybe he would compromise a

gh overhead. There came over him a scorn of the civilized existence these people led, and he wondered that

le of dishes in there as she set the table for supper. Well, there would be one seat empty this night, and maybe th

ere was something sub rosa about what was going on, and his eyes were glowing. Likely they would shine like a cat's eyes in the dar

stive of shining eyes. And while he hesitated there came steps on the front porch, and around the ho

ing there, Tomm

life vanished like a

crumbs, Pap

is eyes as if he were perplexed and worried and did no

him loose again,

o kill Pete!

he di

He had said it, and he was going to stick to it. It was no longer

bowed. Tommy watched him. No doubt his father thought he would follow. He had always liked to hang about the garage, he and Frank, and watch his father tinker

ed. A moment Tommy regarded his offended friend. No use to think of turning him loose again with his father within hearing. Tommy hardened his heart. All right-so

he rest of the day. On the step he took his seat, a solitary little figure, his gun between his knees. Here

new whose parents let them alone, and he envied them their lot in life. Maybe he would go and live with some of them, go where

memorable morning, he and Frank had "almost" caught a rabbit. Beyond were the woods where another afternoon never to be forgotten Frank had jumped a

e life out of a big copperhead moccasin coiled just behind him in the grass. And not very long ago, at the country store up the road, when a bi

ank chained up around yonder waiting a beating. He got up and started once more around th

hand. At sight of it the blood rushed to the boy's face, and every nerve tingled. He had doubted

had filled the air. He himself had stood on the store porch and watched the performance in a detached, judicial frame of min

the ground, Frank's cries would fill the air. He watched his father's face as Earle came toward him. It was serious and grim, so serious that it almost hurt. Maybe

athing fast, he followed his father, led by the fascination of horror. Anybody looking at him, unless it was his mother, would have thought he was going out of curiosity,

d to another. Frank thought they had come to turn him loose and give him his supper in his tin plate on the back steps. Then he saw, and his ears dro

ed the boy. "Pa

s and things, his father had turned and lo

him kill ch

ame around the house, had been to stick to his spoken word. But now passionately he threw the air r

t want it! I killed Pete-F'ank never

pressed against his father's cheek, and over a broad shoulder, through a

he wouldn't. I drove-drove him off, an' he kept com

ut him, the cheek pres

ld man," said his fa

e rose, Tommy looked up clear-eyed into his father's face, as he used to look before he ate

rs," he s

believe his ears; his eyes were uncomprehending,

it," said Earle

ell rang. At the top of the kitchen steps the mother waited with happy face. And up