Well might the aged father lift up his voice in joy.
CHAPTER XL.
THE WHITE DOG AND THE WOLF DEMON.
“He’s a plucky young cuss, ain’t he?” said Boone, in a whisper to Kenton, when he heard the bold defiance of the Indian warrior.
“The Wolf Demon will make mince-meat out of him ef he puts his claws onto him,” replied Kenton, in the same cautious whisper that Boone had used.
“I wonder if the spook will come?” said Boone.
“I reckon not; them things never come when they’re expected. They alers take their own time,” returned Kenton.
“How easy we could ‘rub’ him out now, eh?” Boone observed, suggestively.
“I’m afeard it would bring a hull grist of his relations down on top of us, thick as skeeters in a swamp,” said Kenton.
“That’s so.”