Quid and head rolled again; and the strange youth said jeeringly, with one eye half closed, looking at Jack,—
"So you expect me to travel a mile or two, and drive the deer in for you?" He then pulled down the nether lid of the half-closed eye, and inquired, somewhat irrelevantly, whether Jack saw anything green there. "Not by this light!" he answered his own question, as he let up his eyelid and snapped his thumb and finger. "Ye can't ketch old birds with chaff. I've been through the lot. Parley-voo frong-say?"
Jack regarded him with astonishment, declaring that there was no catch about it. "Only help me, and we will share the game together."
Still the fellow demurred. "I've walked my legs off to-day already; you'll find 'em back in the road here! Had nothing to eat since morning; wore myself down lean as a rail; felt for the last two hours as though there was nothing but my backbone between me and eternity! No, sir-ree! I wouldn't walk that fur out of my way for a herd of deer. If I had a horse to ride I wouldn't mind."
Jack was greatly excited. He had never yet had a good shot at a deer; and if, at the end of his day's work, he could carry home a good fat doe, and perhaps a fawn, of his own shooting, it would be a triumph. So, without a moment's reflection, he said,—
"You may ride mine. Then, if you don't want a share of the game, I'll pay you for your trouble."
The strange youth took time to shift his quid and balance it; then replied in a manner which appeared provokingly cool to the fiery Jack,—
"I'll look at him. Does he ride easy?"
"Yes. Hurry!"
Jack ran down to the horse, led him into the bushes, where the wagon could be left concealed, and had already taken him out of the shafts, before the stranger came lounging to the spot.