"And that's what meself intends to do regarding Miss Cora."
"Yer see, yer don't know much about red-skins and their devilments, and therefore, it's my private opine, instead of getting the gal, they'll git you, and there'll be the end on't."
"Tim, couldn't yees make the s'arch wid me?" asked Teddy, in a deeply earnest voice. The trapper shook his head.
"Like to do't, but can't. It's time I was up to the beaver runs this night and had my traps set. Yer see I'm compelled to be in St. Louey at the end of six months and hain't got a day to spare."
"Mister Harvey has money, or, if he hasn't, he has friends in St. Louis, be the same token, that has abundance of it, and you'd find it paid you bitter in the ind than catching poor, innocent beavers, that niver did yees harm."
"I don't foller sich business for money, but I've agreed to be in St. Louey at the time I was tellin' you, and it's allers a p'int of honor with me to keep my agreements."
"Couldn't yees be doing that, and this same thing, too?"
"Can't do't. S'pose I should git on the trail that is lost, can yer tell me how fur I'd have to foller it? Yer see I've been in that business afore, and know what it is. Me and three others once chased a band of Blackfeet, that had carried off an old man, till we could see the peaks of the Rocky Mountains, and git a taste of the breath of wind that comes down from their ice and snow in middle summer."
"Didn't yees pursue the subjact any further?"
"We went fur enough to find that the nimble-footed dogs had got into the mountains, and that if we wanted to keep our ha'r, we'd only got to undertake to foller 'em thar. So we just tramped back agin, havin' our trouble for nothin'."