Bumpus could not refrain for the life of him from giving a sarcastic chuckle, which of course added to the evident embarrassment of Giraffe; who, however assumed a serious air upon making his reply.
“Well,–er–not exactly, Step Hen. I’ve got her figgered out all right, in my mind, so that in the morning I c’n go ahead, and work out the details. I calculate a short half hour ought to see me wind up in just a blaze of glory. But just yet it’s a toss-up who the ice-cream’s going to be on, Bumpus or me.”
“Oh! I ain’t worrying even a little mite,” asserted the confident Bumpus.
“Well, you wait and see!” declared Giraffe, defiantly. “You don’t all know what I’ve got up my sleeve. The feller that laughs last laughs loudest, they say. And I give you all fair warning that’s going to be me.”
Meanwhile Thad managed to get in close touch with Jim Hasty. When the others were joking, and having a merry time, he was wondering how the guide’s little affair had been working out.
Many hours had passed since he had seen Jim, and he wondered whether the latter could have had any further communication from Old Cale, or even run across the father of his wife in the pine woods.
Jim was looking a little more serious than ever; but so far as Thad could discover there was nothing about him to indicate that he had been in violent collision with an enemy. And there were both his ears in their proper places; which fact might be taken as positive proof that the giant poacher had at least so far not attempted to carry out his terrible threat.
Jim seemed to know what was passing through the boy’s mind; for he smiled faintly, and shook his head in the negative.
“Nothing new happened, then, Jim?” questioned the patrol leader.
“Naw. I hain’t been far from camp the hull blessed day; an’ consequently never had no chanct tew run up against Pa Martin,” replied the other. “But I’m more sot than ever tew see him face tew face, afore I quits this here region. It’s jest gut tew be done, else I wudn’t hev ther nerve tew face Little Lina agin. She made me promise; an’ by thunder! nawthin’ hain’t agoin’ tew skeer me off. If he doan’t hunt me out, by ding! I’ll take a turn at hit, an’ find Cale Martin myself, ef so be I gotter tramp all the way tew his shack, wich I knows on’y tew well.”