“Oh, yes,” smiling evasively. “Yes, I'm plenty willing to go with him,” he said.
“Because if you have any fears for your safety—”
“No, I'm worth a heap more to him alive than I would be dead,” responded the deserter with an air of complacent conviction. He added pleasantly. “I reckon, though, it's right handsome of you to want to look out for me, and me a stranger.” He dropped his voice to a whisper. “He'll calm down some; give him time. I allow he feels Baptiste is looking to him to take on like hell, but once he cuts loose from you gentlemen you needn't bother about him; he'll be mainly interested in getting on to California. Now if you keep on about due west you'll strike Green River sometime to-morrow; after you ford it, your trail leads a little south of west to the Bear.” He looked hard at Stephen.
“Thank you,” said the latter.
“Beyond the Bear you shouldn't have any trouble. You'll strike the Weber next, and you can just follow it into the valley, crossing Kamas Prairie. I know all that country—and don't worry none about him, he ain't hunting trouble. Well, good-bye, and good luck.”
He rejoined Basil and Baptiste.
“Why did he tell us that?” asked Bushrod suspiciously.
“Just his good-nature,” said Stephen indifferently, and thought no more of the deserter's advice until it became necessary to follow it.
The three men mounted their horses, and the fur trader again approached his cousins.
“Once more, will you give him up?” he asked.