Chapter 45

“Are you ready to go, Ma?” Bart asked his mother.

“Sure, son.”

He stuffed the rest of his bread and butter in his mouth and got to his feet. “Thanks, Missus.”

“You’re welcome, Bart. Feel free to come by anytime.”

“Bye, Bart. I’ll see you.” George held his breath and waited to hear what the older boy would say to that.

Bart paused at the kitchen door and glanced back at him. “Yeah, I reckon you will.”

* * * *

So now George had two friends, and what was even better…his friends were friends. Frank wanted them to call themselves the Three Musketeers, and George was fine with that, but he remembered something he’d seen when he and Papa had stayed with an Indian tribe on their way East.