Poor Seth winced at this rough response, and found it harder than before to get out what he wanted to say, but he managed to stammer out:
"Reuben Thayer, sir, my friend, you know."
"No; I don't know your friend Reuben," retorted the Major impatiently. "But what about him? Explain yourself."
"If you please, sir, he wants to be one of your Rangers," Seth hastened to reply, devoutly wishing that he had not undertaken the matter at all.
"Oh, he does, does he?" snorted the Major scornfully. "How good of him! And what if I don't want him? Who is he anyway, and what does he know about scouting?"
"Why, sir, he was with me that time I got so near Ticonderoga, and saw what they were doing there," Seth replied, with a sudden access of spirit, for Rogers' contemptuous way of speaking of his friend rather nettled him.
"Oh, ho! was he, indeed?" exclaimed the Major in a somewhat changed tone. "That makes a difference." Then, fixing his penetrating glance upon Seth, while a slight curve softened the severe outline of his lips, he demanded: "Do you think he's got as good stuff in him as you have, and that he'd be any use to me?"
Seth, now master of himself, felt free to smile back at the stern-visaged scout, who, he knew, was simply twitting him, and to respond in the same vein:
"If you'll only try him, sir, you'll find that he's better than I am, may be."
"Well, well, we'll see, we'll see," said the Major, resuming his pipe, and Seth, taking this as a sign that the interview was closed, went away to report to Reuben.