This was familiar vernacular, and Steve, rising slowly from the ground, and allowing Tige to make friendly acquaintance with the strangers, said:
“I lives at Hollow Hut and I comes over here whenever I pleases. Whar’d you uns come from?”
The man gave a hearty but musical laugh at the ready dignity of the reply, but the boy’s mouth dropped once more in consternation, as words came again in crisp, foreign accent.
“I came from the city, my lad, to get some of your fine quail and deer. You are willing I should have a few, are you not? My friend here is showing me the way.”
The mountain folk had proved a most entertaining study for this sportsman, and his interest was ready for each new specimen encountered. Turning to the guide he said:
“Suppose we lunch here,” and taking out his watch continued, “yes, it is high time; twelve thirty to the minute.”
The boy stepped forward involuntarily for a look at the queer, pretty thing in the man’s hand.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“Why, that’s a watch, son. Didn’t you ever see one?” said the man kindly.