“I’m out gunnin’ for a devil,” said Gaspard. “At fust glimp I kinder hoped you was him, but now I reckon ye ain’t. Ye’re in luck. Hev ye seen him by any chance?”
“Seen who?”
“The devil.”
“I don’t know him by sight.”
“He’s somewheres ’round in these woods.”
“I met a fellow back along that track a few miles who may be a devil. His temper was bad enough; but he said his name was Ned Tone. I haven’t seen anyone else.”
“Ned Tone, hey? No, that ain’t the one I’m lookin’ fer.”
“I don’t know what you’re looking for or what you’re talking about—but if you asked me if I had a mouth I’d make a guess at what you meant.”
“Come along to the house an’ hev some breakfast. Ye look all played out, that’s a fact.”
“Now you’re talking English.”