“You’ve allers been a lucky dog, Ted, ever since we knowed you,” he remarked, as the Irishman came up; “tell me all about it.”
It required Teddy but a few minutes to do this in his own peculiar manner. He related every thing succinctly, from the moment his feet rested upon the edge of the rock to the time when he emerged from the cavern by its back door.
“Quaar that the red-skins war thar,” said old Stebbins. “Thar don’t seem to be many places in this country whar the varmints ain’t. I wonder what they war doin’ thar?”
“Don’t yees saa it was the goold?” said Teddy, in a low, delighted voice.
“Did yer take a look ’round and see any of the yaller stuff?”
Teddy slapped his thigh a tremendous thwack.
“I knowed I’d furgot somethin’, as me father obsarved, whin we missed the corpse of me mither, afther goin’ a mile to the church widout it. I was so interested in the haythen that I niver thought of the goold.”
“I’m afeard you won’t find much thar,” said the trapper, feeling somewhat of a reaction from the high hopes he had entertained.
“It’s there!” was the confident assertion of Teddy. “I know it; that’s what brought the haythen there.”