“’Ello, Stefan, want for see you right avay,” said the trapper. “Come ’long!”
The Swede hastened to him.
“Vat it iss, Philippe?” he asked, eyeing the dogs expertly. “Py de looks off tem togs I tink you ban in some hurry, no?”
“Uh huh! I come to telegraph for de docteur. Hugo heem ’urted h’awful bad. Look lak’ heem die, mebbe.”
Stefan bellowed out an oath and began running 215 towards his house at a tremendous gait. Papineau jumped on his toboggan and followed, only catching up after they had gone a couple of hundred yards. When they reached Olsen’s, the latter went in, shouted out the news and came out again. With the help of Papineau he hitched up his own great team of five.
“Tank you for lettin’ me know, Papineau,” he said. “I get ofer dere so tam qvick you don’t belief, I tank. So long!”
“’Old ’ard! ’Old ’ard!” shouted the Frenchman. “Vat for you tink Pat Kilrea an’ McIntosh, an’ Prouty an’ Kerrigan and more, an’ also vomans is goin’ up dere to de Falls? Dey say go visitin’. Dey don’t nevaire go make visits before dat vay. An’ dey h’ask me all ’bout de demoiselle, de gal vat is up dere, an’ I see Mis’ Kilrea an’ Kerrigan’s voman look one de oder in de face. Look mean lak’ de devil, dem vomans! I dunno, but I tink dey up to no good, dem crowd. If I no have to stay for docteur I go right back qvick. D’ye tink dey vant ter bodder Hugo, or de lady, Stefan?”
The latter swore again.
“If dey bodder ’em I tvists all dere necks like chickens, I tank,” he cried, excitedly. “How long ago did they leave?”