His features were regular and clear cut; his face was kept smooth shorn, though the black, Indian-like hair hung far down his shoulders. There were not a few who secretly asserted that he came by this last trait fairly, and wondered only that he had not the curved nose and high cheek-bones as well.
His black eyes were of a fair size, but dull and sleepy looking, save when he was angered; then one was strangely reminded of an infuriated serpent, so wickedly did they flash and scintillate. In form he was tall, broad-shouldered and well built, being somewhat noted for his skill in the use of weapons, fleetness of foot and prowess as a wood-ranger.
"Good-evening, Dick," coldly uttered the settler in reply, evidently not caring to encourage the man, as he still stood in the narrow doorway, without a hint for the other to enter.
"Heard the news?" added Dusky Dick, as a slight frown crossed his face, and a smoldering glow lit up his dark eyes.
"No—I don't know as I have. What is it?" listlessly responded Wilson as he deliberately crushed up some "natural leaf," and crammed it into the wide-mouthed pipe-bowl. "Bring me a coal, Annie."
"'Bout the red-skins. They've got thar backs up at last and thar's goin' to be the tallest kind of a muss, afore the thing's over," and there seemed to be a faint tinge of exultation in the tones of the speaker, that did not escape the keen witted borderer.
"How is it that you know so much of their feelings, Dusky Dick? A body might almost think you were one of them, by the way you talk."
Morgan gave vent to a low laugh; deep, smooth and mellow, but yet filled with a peculiar meaning. Then he replied:
"I travel fur and keep my ears open, neighbor, as a man must needs to in these troubled times, and in a new country. I have kivered nigh onto fifty miles to-day, since sun-up. I stopped here to tell you the news. If you think it's wuth offerin' a feller a cheer, and a bite of somethin' to eat, I'll tell you it all. If not, then we'll call it quits and I'll go furder."
"Come in—I did not think," added Wilson, a little abashed, for border hospitality is proverbial. "Annie, give him what we have. Fall to, friend, and welcome."