"You're a stranger, ain't you?" he remarked, with an inquisitive
glance at his young traveling companion.
"Yes; I've never been here before."
"Are you going to the tavern?"
"No; I'm going to the house of Mr. John Fox. Do you know him?"
"I reckon everybody round here knows John Fox."
"I don't know him. He is to be my guardian."
"Sho! You'll have a queer guardeen."
"Why queer?"
"The fact is, old John'll cheat you out of your eye teeth ef he gets a
chance. He's about the sharpest man round."
"He can't cheat me out of much," returned Harry, not especially
reassured by this remark. "What is the business of Mr. Fox?"
"Well, he's got some land, but he makes his livin' chiefly by tradin'
hosses, auctioneerin', and such like."
"What sort of a woman is Mrs. Fox?"
"She's a good match for the old man. She's about as mean as he is."
"Mr. Fox wrote me that he had two children."
"Yes, there's Joel--he's about your age. He's a chip of the old
block--red-headed and freckled, just like the old man. I don't believe
Joel ever spent a cent in his life. He hangs on to money as tight as
ef his life depended on it."
"There's a girl, too, isn't there?"
"Yes, Sally. She looks like her ma, except she's red-headed like her
pa.
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