"It is plain you do not know us, and you have greatly misjudged us. We are not in the mountains to make 'mashes,' and we are not the kind to boast of our conquests."
"Thot's right, me jool!" growled Barney, whose temper was started a bit. "An' it's mesilf thot loikes to be suspected av such a thing. It shtirs me foighting blud."
The Irish lad clinched his fist, and felt of his muscle, moving his forearm up and down, and scowling blackly at the cool chief of moonshiners, as if longing to thump the fellow.
This seemed to amuse Muriel, but still he persisted in further arousing the lads by saying, insinuatingly:
"I war led ter b'lieve that Kate war ruther interested in you-uns by her manner. Thar don't no maounting gal take so much trouble over strangers fer nothin'!"
Frank bit his lip, and Barney looked blacker than ever. It seemed that Muriel was trying to draw them into a trap of some sort, and they were growing suspicious. Had this young leader of mountain ruffians rescued them that he might find just cause or good excuse to put them out of the way?
The boys were silent, and Muriel forced a laugh.
"Wal, ye won't talk about that, an' so we'll go onter somethin' else. I judge you-uns know yo're in a po'erful bad scrape?"
"We have good reasons to think so."
"Begorra! we have thot!" exclaimed Barney, feeling of his neck, and making a wry face, as if troubled by an unpleasant recollection.