“None of that ar, now,” said Silas, as he bent over the prostrate form of the boy. “Keep out in plain sight whar I can have an eye on you. Are you bad hurt, Fred? If you are, that feller’s signed his death-warrant.”
“No! no!” moaned the boy faintly. “Don’t touch him.”
Smirker was amazed to hear the one who had so narrowly escaped death at his hands interceding for him. It relieved him of all fear of bodily injury, and he straightway began to recover his composure; but he drew a step or two nearer to Fred’s side, thinking it best to keep as far as possible out of the reach of the giant, whom he knew had good cause to be at enmity with him.
“I shall be all right as soon as I have had time to recover the breath he choked out of me,” continued the latter. “Oh, Silas, I am so glad to see you! But why didn’t you come just a few minutes sooner. I have seen him. He was in this very stable.”
“Him!” repeated the trapper. “Who? Not Julian?”
“Yes, Julian. I didn’t think I should know him when I met him, but I did. I wanted to throw my arms around him and tell him that he was my brother, but Smirker was in the way. I am terribly disappointed in him, Silas. He is from the States, you know, and I expected to see a boy who hadn’t courage enough to face a sheep. But he’ll do.”
“Why, how come he here?” asked Silas in great astonishment.
“I haven’t the least idea. Make Smirker tell. He’ll do anything you ask him.”
“How was it?” demanded the trapper, turning to the owner of the cabin. “Tell nothing but the truth.”