“They hang up the scalps in their wigwams—that’s their houses—to show how many enemies they have killed. The one that has the most scalps is the greatest man.”
“Faith, then,” said Mike, “I think I’ll be stayin’ here all the days of my life. What would Bridget say if I should come home without any roof on my head?”
Tom laughed.
“She wouldn’t have any chance to pull your hair. But what are you going to do, Mike, in this new country?”
“Make a livin’, I hope, Mister Tom. I must get work soon, for I haven’t got but ten dollars in my pocket.”
“I’ve got only sixty, Mike.”
“That’s little for a gentleman like you, Mister Tom.”
“I’ve got to go to work, too, Mike.”
“Shure, a gentleman like you will find a place quick.”
“I don’t know, Tom. I hope so.”