As the stranger approached Julian saw that he appeared to be very much excited about something, and that he breathed heavily as if he had been running long and rapidly.
“If you are a friend what are you doing on the outside of the camp?” asked the boy.
“Why, we’ve been trappin’ here in the mountains, me an’ my pardner have, an’ to-day the Injuns driv us out,” replied the stranger. “We jest had to git up an’ dig out to save our har, an’ left all our plunder in the hands of the redskins—spelter, hosses, traps, an’ every thing except our rifles. While we were a makin’ tracks fur the prairie we come plump agin somebody; an’ who do you ’spose it was? It was Silas Roper. We used to be chums, me an’ him did, an’ have hunted and trapped together many a day up in the Blackfoot country. We found him watchin’ the camp of Ned Sanders an’ his band of rascals, an’ Silas said that if he had just one more man he could kill or captur’ the last one of ’em. He told me whar his wagon train was, an’ axed me would I come down an’ get one of the fellers to lend a hand. He said that Julian Mortimer was plucky an’ a good shot, an’ he’d like to have him. Mebbe you know him an’ can tell me whar’ to find him.”
“I can. I am Julian Mortimer,” replied the boy, proudly.
“You!” The trapper seemed to be first surprised, and then disappointed. He surveyed Julian from head to foot, and then continued: “Sho! I expected to see a man. What could a little cub like you do with Sanders and his gang?”
“I am man enough to put a ball into one of them if I get a fair chance,” replied Julian. “I know something about Sanders, and have reasons for wishing him put where he will never see me again.”
“Wall, you’re spunky if you are little, an’ spunk is the thing that counts arter all. Mebbe you’ll do as well as any body. Will you go?”
“Of course I will, if Silas sent for me.”
“‘Nough said. Go easy now, an’ do jest as you see me do.”