“Well. I've often heard that point disputed; but it's so easy to get a man naturalized, that it's of little consequence where he was born. I wonder what course the Judge means to take in this business of Natty Bumppo!”
“Of Natty Bumppo!” echoed Edwards; “to what do you allude, sir?”
“Haven't you heard!” exclaimed the other, with a look of surprise, so naturally assumed as completely to deceive his auditor; “it may turn out an ugly business. It seems that the old man has been out in the hills, and has shot a buck this morning, and that, you know, is a criminal matter in the eyes of Judge Temple.”
“Oh! he has, has he?” said Edwards, averting his face to conceal the color that collected in his sunburnt cheek. “Well, if that be all, he must even pay the fine.”
“It's five pound currency,” said the lawyer; “could Natty muster so much money at once?”
“Could he!” cried the youth. “I am not rich, Mr. Lippet; far from it—I am poor, and I have been hoarding my salary for a purpose that lies near my heart; but, Before that old man should lie one hour in a jail, I would spend the last cent to prevent it. Besides, he has killed two panthers, and the bounty will discharge the fine many times over.”
“Yes, yes,” said the lawyer, rubbing his hands together, with an expression of pleasure that had no artifice about it; “we shall make it out; I see plainly we shall make it out.”
“Make what out, sir? I must beg an explanation.”
“Why, killing the buck is but a small matter compared to what took place this afternoon,” continued Mr. Lippet, with a confidential and friendly air that won upon the youth, little as he liked the man. “It seems that a complaint was made of the fact, and a suspicion that there was venison in the hut was sworn to, all which is provided for in the statute, when Judge Temple granted the search warrant.”
“A search-warrant!” echoed Edwards, in a voice of horror, and with a face that should have been again averted to conceal its paleness; “and how much did they discover? What did they see?”