“Hello there, Papineau!” called one of the men. “Going in for provisions? Thought you hauled in a barrel of flour last week.”
“Uh huh,” assented Philippe, non-committally.
“Is that fellow Ennis over to his shack?” asked McIntosh, the squaw-man.
“Uh huh,” repeated the settler.
“D’ye happen to know whether there’s a––a young ’ooman there too?”
“Vat you vant wid dat gal?” asked Papineau this time.
“We’re just goin’ visitin’, like,” Pat Kilrea informed him. “It’s sure a fine day for a ride in the country. And so that there young ’ooman’s been up there a matter o’ three-four days, ain’t she?”
“I tink so,” assented Philippe.
“D’ye know who she is?” asked Mrs. Kilrea, a severe looking and angular woman.
“Sure, heem gal is friend o’ Hugo,” answered the Frenchman, simply. “Mebbe you better no go to-day. Hugo heem seek. I got to ’urry, so good-by.”