Part 11 (1/2)
”How came you in these parts, my friend?”
”Heaven save you, I _run_ here. The Injins have been after me.”
”They didn't catch you?”
”No, sir,” replied the young man, bursting into a loud guffaw. ”I run too fast.”
”What might be your name?”
”Zeke Hunt, but I'm derned 'fraid it won't be any name at all if I stay in these parts much longer. Oh, dear,” whined the young man, ”I wish I was back in Pennsylvany, on the farm.”
”What made you leave it?”
”The old man whipped me, and I run away.”
”Why don't you go back?”
”I'd rather meet all the painted Injins in the woods than him. He'd whip me all through the town.”
”No doubt you deserve it.”
”Boo-hoo! you ain't going to lick me too, are you?” plead the man, gouging one eye with his finger.
”No, no; don't make a fool of yourself. What would I wish to hurt you for?”
”I don't know, I'm sure. I'm 'fraid of everybody.”
”See here, Zeke, was there any Injins chasing you, just now?”
”Yes--no. I've been clear of them a long time, I run so fast; but I'm just as afeard, as I s'pose the Injins are all over the woods.”
”Not so bad as that, though we'd be willing to get along if there was a few less.”
”Yes, that's so. Got any thing to eat?”
”No, but we'll soon have something.”
”Can I go 'long with you?” asked the frightened fellow.
”If you wish to, provided you do what I want you to.”
”Oh, I'll do any thing for you. Who's that with you?” he questioned, peering around the hunter, who, although he had advanced a few steps, still stood in front of Edith.
”A young friend, Miss Edith Sudbury.”
”Glad to see you,” said the young man, with an awkward bow.
”But see here,” pursued the Rifleman, ”how comes it you are in these woods at all? You didn't come all the way from Pennsylvany alone?”
”Oh, no--oh, no. I came down the Ohio in a flat-boat.”