"Seven bullets!" echoed Archie. "Why, I should think they would kill him."
"So they would, most likely, if he only had them in him," replied Johnny. "He is a famous hunter and trapper, owns two splendid horses, a pack of hounds, three or four fine guns, and makes himself hot and happy in a suit of buckskin. If it were not for his smooth face and dandy airs, one would take him for some old mountain man. He gave Dick and me a short history of his life—which he will be sure to repeat for your benefit—and was foolish enough to believe that we were as green as two pumpkins because we had never been in the States, and that we would swallow any thing. But, if we have always lived in a wilderness, we have not neglected our books, and we are well enough posted to know that Arthur makes great mistakes sometimes."
"But why is your day's fun all knocked in the head?" asked Archie.
"Because I can't enjoy myself when Arthur is around. I am always afraid that I shall do or say something that he won't like. Every time I look at him, I am reminded of Byron's Corsair, who, you know, was
'—the mildest mannered man
That ever scuttled ship or cut a throat.'
I don't mean to say that Arthur would cut any body's throat, but I do say that if he should happen to get angry at any of us, we shall wish him safe in Kentucky, where he belongs. I can't very well avoid introducing him, but, after what I have said, you will understand that I do not indorse him."
The conversation was brought to a close by the near approach of Arthur Vane, who presently dashed up to the porch, and dismounted. Frank and Archie made a rapid examination of the new-comer. He was dressed in a full suit of buckskin—hunting-shirt, leggins, and moccasins, the latter ornamented with bright-colored beads—which set off his tall, slender, well-knit frame to good advantage. He evidently possessed a fair share of muscle and agility, and that, according to Archie's way of thinking, was a great recommendation. He little dreamed that his own pluck, strength, and endurance would one day be severely tested by that boy in buckskin.
Arthur's weapons were objects of no less curiosity to the cousins than his dress. Instead of the short, light rifle in which the boys of that country took so much delight, and which was so handy to be used on horseback, he carried a double-barrel shot-gun as long as himself, elaborately ornamented, and the boys judged, from the way he handled it, that it must be very heavy. From his belt protruded the buckhorn handle of a sheath-knife, and the bright, polished head of an Indian tomahawk. The lasso was nowhere to be seen.
When the boys had noted these points, they glanced at the face of the new-comer. It was a handsome face, and might have made a favorable impression on them, had it not been for the haughty glances which its owner directed toward them as he rode up.
"He looks at us as though he thought we had no business here," whispered Archie, as Johnny went down the steps to receive the visitor.