"You know, Mary," he said cheerfully, "there are a good many extra expenses just at first, but it will be different in future. Wolverton assures me that the ranch is a fine one, and that I can pay him back sooner than he desires, for he is glad to lend on such excellent security."
Mrs. Burton was silent, but she was not convinced.
Robert Burton, popularly called Bob, was the only son of the ex-merchant. He thoroughly enjoyed the removal to the country, having a taste for manly sports. He usually spent a part of the day in study, reciting to a clergyman in the village, and the rest of his time he employed in hunting, fishing, and farm work. Clip, the young refugee, was his chosen companion, and was sincerely attached to Massa Bob, as he generally called him. The negro lad was full of fun and innocent mischief, but had no malice about him. Bob tried to teach him to read, but Clip was no scholar. He complained that study made his head ache.
"But you ought to know something, Clip," expostulated Bob. "You don't want to grow up an ignoramus."
"What's dat?" asked Clip, bewildered. "Never heard such a long word. Is it anything very bad?"
"I guess you're right, Massa Bob. Dat's what I am."
"No, Massa Bob; I guess I was never cut out for a scholar."
Still Bob persevered in his effort to teach Clip.
One day, after an unsuccessful attempt to get him to understand the difference between capital B and R, he said: "Clip, I don't believe you have got any sense."
"Spec's I haven't, Massa Bob," answered Clip, philosophically. "How many have you got?"
"I don't know exactly," he replied; "but I hope I have as many as the average."
"I reckon you've got a lot. You learn awful easy."
"I am afraid I shall have to learn for both of us, Clip."
"Dat's so!" said Clip, in a tone of satisfaction. "Dat'll do just as well."
So Bob was finally obliged to give up teaching Clip in despair. He was led to accept the conclusion of his young _protégé_ that he was never meant for a scholar.
In one respect Bob and Clip shared the prejudices of Mrs. Burton. Neither liked Aaron Wolverton. They felt friendly, however, to Sam Wolverton, the nephew; and more than once Sam, with his appetite unsatisfied at home, came over to Burton's ranch and enjoyed a hearty lunch, thanks to the good offices of Bob Burton.