"I shall be ruint! Indeet, you will take all that I hab," grumbled Hans, when all the skins were displayed, and Steve had demanded more than double the amount of powder, lead, and other commodities which the Dutchman offered. "I shall be ruint! Nod anoder dollar's worth do you hab. Dat is all. De last cent."
Steve smiled one of his easiest smiles and looked coaxingly at the trader.
"Come, Mr. Schiller," he said pleasantly, "don't let it be said that you lost such a chance. This is the finest lot of skins that you have seen, that you admit. A pity if you let it go to the others farther down the street. Come now, make another offer."
Not for one moment did he become flurried or lose that air of confident assurance which he had worn from the very first. And after a little while the deal was settled and the trio rose to go.
"Reckon you're the 'cutest feller as ever I set eyes on," said Jim, as they trudged back to the camp, half a dozen of the Dutchman's negro servants in their wake bearing sundry bales and boxes. "That 'ere deal war the finest as ever I listened to, and, shucks! ain't you a cool 'un! I didn't jest dare to look at yer too often, nor at Mac nor Hans. I jest sat and smoked, gripping at me pipe ter keep meself from splitting with laughter. Reckon it war better nor an Injun palaver, and that 'ere Hans knew he was beat. Yer watched him give a gasp when you was for movin'?"
"I did," answered Steve. "You can be sure that Hans Schiller lives and grows fat on his earnings. He need never stir out of his house till late in the summer. Then he floats down the Hudson in a flat-bottomed boat, and trades his skins at New York for dollars. A few of those buy the stuff he needs for trading with the trappers, and back he comes, with a sack and more of dollars, and with nothing to do but smoke his pipe all through the winter."
"We've had some friends enquiring after us," said Steve's father when the three had returned to the camp. "A couple of Indians have been questioning Silver Fox and Talking Bear. See them over there."
They swung round, and looking in the direction he indicated, caught sight of a couple of feathered heads peeping from behind the trees.
"I don't like them fellers," said Jim quickly, staring at the heads till they were withdrawn. "What air they after?"
"What do they and their sort generally want?" was Tom's rejoinder.