THE ROOT HUNTER
“Well,” remarked Teddy, softly, “what you’re telling me doesn’t flabbergast me one little bit. I just guessed that much from looking at the fellow, and hearing him talk. We’ll keep an eye on him, all right; and if he steals anything from our camp this night, why, he’s welcome to it, that’s all. But we’d better act like we had only come over here to examine this boat, and see how bad a mark that snag made in the varnished side. He’s got his eye on us all the while; I can feel it.”
“Righto!” replied the woods boy, cheerfully, his mind relieved, since he had given his friend and employer proper warning, so that the burden was no longer on his shoulders.
A few minutes later they walked back to the fire, engaged in discussing whether the snag “bite” would prove serious at some future time; and if so, should they cover the spot with a piece of canvas, brought along for mending purposes.
Hackett watched them suspiciously, and seemed to strain his hearing in the endeavor to make out what they were saying. He seemed relieved upon catching the burden of their talk, as though it proved that they had not been discussing him while away.
By the time he finished eating, there was nothing more in sight. Dolph was of the opinion that the giant’s capacity was of such an unlimited nature, that if given an opportunity he could have lessened their stock of provisions alarmingly, before calling a halt.
“Must say that I never seed such a dandy outfit as ye boys kerry,” Gabe was pleased to remark, as he looked enviously around him; “canoes that jest take me eye; guns sech as I never handled in all my life; and ther cutest cookin’ things as was ever got up. Must take a heap o’ hard cash ter buy sech things. An’ thet coffee, say, will I ever forgit it? Like as not the taste’ll stick with me forever. Ain’t nawthin’ hardly I wouldn’t do, if so be I could aim the money ter buy sich coffee. P’raps ye wouldn’t mind leavin’ me the name, an’ fust dollar I find rollin’ up hill, hang me if I don’t invest the same in it. I could do with little else, if I got a drink like that. It beats any old pizen whiskey I ever swallered.”
“That’s where you’re right, Gabe!” remarked Teddy, quickly; “and if a lot of our men only thought the same, and carried it out, they’d be better off for it. Perhaps you’ve guessed it before, but I might as well tell you that I’m Teddy Overton, the only son of the president of the lumber company that’s a rival of the one you used to work for.”
“Yep, I guessed it, an’ why—’cause in the fust place ye’re the image o’ yer daddy; and then agin, I see ye onct at the store,” the visitor went on to say.