“He is a great fellow Teddy. He’s one of the best hearted Irishman I ever met.”
“I noticed you were acquainted.”
“I’ve known him for a dozen years; he’s sort of a scout for the frontier posts. I can’t say I’m really glad he has joined us.”
“Why not?” inquired McGowan in astonishment.
“’Cause he’s always been considered the onluckiest dog in these parts. I never knowed him to go on a scent but what he had got into some confounded scrape.”
“I should consider him very fortunate then, that he has escaped with his life, and lives to tell the tale,” said Ruth.
“Perhaps he is,” answered the hunter, who did not wish to occasion any alarm. “I didn’t think of that way of looking at it.”
“Why does he continue such a life?”
“It’s just his delight. That feller is covered with cuts and scars, and hacks he’s got from the Injins. I couldn’t tell how many times he’s had his skull cracked.”
“What brings him here?”