But there is not enough to show Tarleton the dark cloud of disappointment passing over the face of the old hunter, as he perceives by that exhibition that his counsel had been spoken to no purpose.
“And now,” said the guest, straightening himself up as if about to make his departure, “I’ve business that takes me to Helena. I expect to meet that fellow I’ve been telling you of who gave me the gold. He’s to come there by an up-river boat, and should be there now. As you know, I’ve to do my travelling between two days. You may expect me back before sunrise. I hope you won’t be disturbed by my early coming?”
“Come an’ go when you like, Dick. Thar ain’t much saramony ’beout my shanty. All hours air the same to me.”
Tarleton buttons up his coat, in the breast of which is concealed the before-mentioned tooth-pick, and, without saying another word, strikes off for the road leading towards the river and the town of Helena. It is but little better than a bridle trace; and he is soon lost to sight under the shadows of its overhanging trees.
Jerry Rook keeps his place, standing close to the trunk of the cottonwood. When his guest has gone beyond reach of hearing, an exclamation escapes through his half-shut teeth, expressive of bitter chagrin.
Story 1--Chapter XI.
Dick Tarleton.
In the conversation recorded Dick Tarleton has thrown some light on his own history. Not much more is needed to elucidate the statement made by him—that he must do his travelling between two days. He has admitted almost enough to serve the purposes of our tale which refers only to him, though a few more words, to fill up the sketch, may not be out of place.