“Huntin’ me!” exclaimed Tone. “Me an’ this family is old friends.”
Catherine MacKim joined them at that moment.
“You are not a friend of ours, Ned Tone,” she said, looking him straight in the eyes. “Grandad and I don’t have cowards and liars for friends.”
CHAPTER VII
TAKING TO THE TRAIL
Ned Tone flinched and reddened at the insult.
“That ain’t no way to talk to me!” he cried. “You wouldn’t dare say it if ye was a man.”
“Yes, I would. You showed yourself in your true colors when you misdirected this stranger. That was the lowest, meanest trick ever played in these woods by white man or Indian.”
“’S that so. Maybe he’s the liar. Who is he, anyhow, an’ what’s he hidin’ ’round here for? Where’d he come from? He’s a slick talker; an’ I reckon that’s all ye know about him, Catherine MacKim.”
“We’ll just step back into the woods, you and I, out of the lady’s sight and hearing, if she’ll excuse us for a few minutes,” said Tom, in a quiet voice.
“Not me,” replied the big woodsman. “I got nothin’ to say to ye in private. If ye’re lookin’ fer a fight ye’re lookin’ up the wrong tree, I wouldn’t dirty my hands on ye.”