Read Online Eyes of Eagles by William W. Johnstone - Free Book Online

into town to Abe Caney’s store. But first the cow has to be milked, the hogs slopped, the eggs...” Her eyes fell on the basket of eggs on a chopping block.
    â€œJamie did all that while we were still abed, Sarah,” Sam said softly. “I think we have us a godsend here.”
    â€œYou did it all, Jamie?” Sarah asked.
    â€œIt wasn’t that much. If I didn’t do at least that much before the others got out of their robes back at the Shawnee town, I got a beating, I learned to do things fast and right the first time.”
    Tears sprang into Sarah’s eyes. Sam ducked his head for a few seconds. “You’ll get no beatings here, Jamie,” she said.
    Sam lifted his head and there was a twinkle in his eyes. “Besides, I’m not so sure I could whip Jamie.”
    * * *
    Abe Caney pulled Sam off to one side while Sarah was busy shopping. “That must have been some fight out at your place yesterday, Sam. The whole town’s talking about it.”
    â€œIt’s over, Abe. I hope I never have to have another one.”
    But Abe was eager for details. “Where’d you learn to fight, Sam? You’re known as a peaceable man.”
    â€œMy father insisted I learn all forms of self-defense, Abe. From fencing to bare-knuckle boxing. His father knew James Figg, really the first bare-knuckle champion.”
    While Sarah shopped and Sam and Abe chatted, Jamie stood on the porch of the store and watched as several boys walked up the street. He had a hunch they would angle over to him, and they did.
    Jamie did not see the Reverend Hugh Callaway walk up the short street and stop a dozen yards from where Jamie stood, leaning up against a post and sucking on a piece of peppermint candy. Nor did he know that two of the boys were sons of John Jackson and Hart Olmstead. He would learn that very soon.
    â€œHey, there’s the Injun boy,” Jubal Olmstead said.
    â€œYeah,” Abel Jackson said. “Let’s go over and see if he wants to fight.”
    â€œYou better leave him alone,” the third boy said. “My pa said if I called him names or caused him any trouble, he’d take a piss-elm branch to my butt. And he will, too.”
    â€œThen you just stand aside and stay out of this,” Abel said. He was built like his father, and had just about as much sense. The three boys were all thirteen years old and as boys were prone to be during that hard and brutal time, they were strong from long hours of chopping wood, clearing timber, moving huge rocks, and putting in back-breaking hours in the fields.
    Jamie sucked on his peppermint stick and watched the trio move toward him. One of the boys left the group and walked over to sit on the edge of a watering trough.
    â€œHey, you!” Abel called to Jamie. “Red nigger. Why don’t you leave town. Nobody wants you here.”
    Jamie’s eyes narrowed slightly but other than that his expression did not change. He said nothing.
    â€œMaybe he’s forgot how to talk English,” Jubal said. “I bet that’s it.”
    â€œLet’s learn him,” Abel suggested. “Hey, Injun-boy, can you say, ’I’m ’bout to get a heap big butt-kickin’?”
    The two boys thought that was hysterically funny. The third boy sat on the edge of the trough and did not laugh. He watched Jamie. He thought that maybe Abel and Jubal were about to make a big mistake. His pa had been among those who’d met Jamie, and his pa had been plenty impressed by the boy. More man than boy, his pa had said. And added that his son had best walk light around the Shawnee-raised young fellow. There was a mean glint to the lad’s eyes.
    I will witness this, Reverend Callaway thought. And when the dust settles, I will testify that the two young scalawags egged this on.
    â€œGet off that porch, Injun-nigger,” Abel said. “And take your whopping, ’cause you’re sure gonna get