"Now don't be tellin' that yarn agin," broke in Dick. "Sure Bill's heard un—leastways he must 'a' heard un."
"No, I never heard un," said Bill.
"An' ain't been missin' much then. 'Tis just one o' Ed's yarns, an' no truth in un."
"'Tis no yarn. 'Tis true, an' I could prove un by th' Injuns. Leastways I could if I knew where un were, but none o' that crowd o' Injuns comes this way these days."
"What were the yarn, now?" asked Bill.
"I says 'tis no yarn. 'Tis what happened t' me," asserted Ed, assuming a much injured air. "As I were sayin', 'twere a frosty evenin' twelve year ago. I were comin' t' my lower tilt, an' when I gets handy t' un what does I see but a big band o' mountaineers around th' tilt. Th' mountaineers was not always friendly in those times as they be now, an' I makes up my mind for trouble. I comes up t' un an' speaks t' un pleasant, an' goes right in th' tilt t' see if un be takin' things. I finds a whole barrel o' flour missin' an' comes out at un. They owns up t' eatin' th' flour, an' they had eat th' hull barrel t' one meal—now ye mind, one meal. When un eats a barrel o' flour t' one meal there be a big band o' un. They was so many o' un I never counted. They was like t' be ugly at first, but I looks fierce like, an' tells un they must gi' me fur t' pay for un. I was so fierce like I scares un—scares un bad. I were one man alone, an' wi' a bold face I had th' whole band so scared they each gives me a marten, an' I has a flat sled load o' martens from un—handy t' a hundred an' fifty—an' if I hadn't 'a' been bold an' scared un I'd 'a' had none. Injuns be easy scared if un knows how t' go about it."
Bill laughed and remarked,
"'Tis sure a fine yarn, Ed. How does un look t' be fierce an' scare folk?"
"A fine yarn! An' I tells un 'tis a gospel truth, an' no yarn," asserted Ed, apparently very indignant at the insinuation.
"Bob's late comin'," remarked Dick. "'Tis gettin' dark."