“In course.”
“When shall we start?”
“We’ll be on our way to-morrow night.”
“To-morrow night!” repeated Guy. “Why, Mr. Wilson told me that he never hired a man without making him promise to give at least a month’s notice when he wanted to quit.”
“What do I care for Wilson?” asked Zeke contemptuously. “A free hunter does what he likes. I can trust you, I reckon.”
“Certainly you can.”
“Cause if I can’t, I don’t want anything to do with you,” said Zeke.
“Oh, you can trust me, I assure you,” declared Guy earnestly, fearing that the hunter was about to go back from his promise. “What do you want me to do?”
“I’ll tell you arter supper. I’ve got an idee in my head an’ want to put on my thinkin’ cap an’ think it out; so don’t say nothin’ to me till I speak. Let’s go an’ eat some of them squirrels. In a few days from now we’ll be livin’ on buffaler hump an’ marrer bones, an that’s livin’, I tell you! I say agin, you’re jest the feller I’ve been a-lookin’ fur.”
The hunter relapsed into silence, and so did Guy, who marched along by his side, and although he carried a ponderous rifle on his shoulder and a heavy string of squirrels in his hand, he walked as if he were treading on air. He forgot that he had that day ridden forty miles on a rough-going horse. He did not bestow a thought upon his weary body, for his mind was too fully occupied with the future. In a few hours more, he kept saying to himself, his bright dreams would all be realized. He had got on the right side of the hunter at last—there could be no doubt of that. Zeke was as cordial as one could possibly be—more so, in fact, than any man he had ever before met. Perhaps if Guy had been more experienced in the ways of the world, this would have aroused his suspicions and made him a little more guarded in his intercourse with his new friend. That caution was necessary, we can see by following Zeke for a moment in his meditations.