“The same gintleman that addrissed me so politely last night,” exclaimed Teddy, in a whisper, although it will be seen that, when this interview took place, the Irishman was denied view of the features of the stranger, so that this assertion was more of a guess than any thing else.
The question now was, whether they should go forward and make the acquaintance of this stranger, or quietly withdraw and leave him to his musings. As they were engaged in the hunt for gold, it was not very desirable to have any more partners than they already had, and so, after a short and earnest conference, the hunters stealthily made their way back to the cañon, and continued their way down it until they reached “head-quarters.”
Every thing here was found as they had left it, but there were no signs of Black Tom.
“Where can he be?” was the question they asked of each other, and, as hour after hour passed away, they could do nothing but conjecture the cause of his absence. As they had heard no shout or discharge of gun, they hoped that nothing serious had befallen him.
At a late hour the two lay down and slept until morning, and when they rose with the break of day, their friend was still missing; but, to their inexpressible relief, he came upon the stage of action in the course of an hour.
“B’ars and bufflers!” he exclaimed, in answer to their questions; “but this is a little the quarest place I ever got in. What do you s’pose I’ve been doin’?”
“Makin’ a fool of yourself,” replied old Stebbins.
“No need of that, when I’ve got a couple handy, always,” retorted Black Tom; “but what do you think it was?”
“Dancing the Donnybrook jig,” replied Teddy. “Ye might’ve got some old she-bear, or the baste fur yer partner; yees would be a fine couple, and well matched.”
“No, sir; I’ve been chasin’ a gal!”