"One of them's just a mad young fool that'll do anything if you dare him."
"Ay, there's some of that sort most ways to be found. But 'tis a mad thing to do."
"None so mad, perhaps," put in another. "They say he's the cleverest of them all."
"I doubt but Kohiseva'll be one too clever for him. And the other—who's he?"
"Why, didn't you know? There he is standing over there; Olof, they say's his name."
"That one? He looks a sight too fine for a lumberman at all."
"'Tis him none the less for that."
"What's he doing in the gang, anyway? 'Tis not his business, by the look of him."
"Ay, you may say so, but there's none knows more about him than all can see. Book-learned, they say he is, and speaks foreign lingos, but Olof's all the name he goes by."
"H'm. Must be a queer sort."