“By goods, I suppose you mean us about you?” said Emma.
“No, girl, I didn’t mean you. I meant gunpowder and the like.”
“I think, Emma, you are comprehended in the last word,” said Alfred.
“That is more than you are, then, for he did not mention lead,” retorted Emma.
“Martin Super, you know I did specify lead on the paper,” said Malachi Bone.
“You did, and you shall have it,” said Mr Campbell. “Say what your terms are now, and I will close with you.”
“Well, I’ll leave that to Martin and you, stranger. I clear out to-morrow.”
“To-morrow; and where do you go to?”
Malachi Bone pointed to the westward.
“You’ll not hear my rifle,” said the old hunter, after a pause; “but I’m thinking you’ll never stay here. You don’t know what an Ingen’s life is; it an’t fit for the like of you. No, there’s not one of you, ’cept this boy,” continued Malachi, putting his hand to John’s head, “that’s fit for the woods. Let him come to me. I’ll make a hunter of him; won’t I, Martin?”