“That’s what I’m trying to find out,” laughed Reuben. “So am I,” roared the giant. “If you’re here, it may be somebody else will be here, too. Now, let me tell you that there isn’t anybody in creation what is going to set traps along the same streams where I set mine.” “How will you stop it?” inquired Reuben. “Do you see that?” inquired the giant as he held up for Reuben’s inspection an immense fist. “With that bunch of bones I have knocked down an ox. If anything happens to that fist, then I have got something else to fall back upon,” and with a loud laugh the giant held up his rifle. “And if worst comes to worst,” he continued, “I have got something in my belt here that will help take care of me.” As he spoke he drew from his belt a long, slim, sharply pointed piece of steel, which he explained had once been a bayonet, but by repeated filings had been reduced to its present shape and size. That it was a dangerous weapon Reuben instantly understood. “That time I was hugging that grizzly,” resumed Rat, “or, rather, that time when he was hugging me, do you know I just tickled his ribs with that instrument?” “Did he like it?” inquired Reuben. “He didn’t live long enough to say. There was a grin on his face though when he doubled over, so I guess he didn’t feel so bad as he made out, though he was pretty dead when I left him.” “What do you mean by ‘pretty dead?’” “Dead as a door-nail.” “But when one is dead he can’t be any deader, can he?” persisted Reuben. “I don’t know about that. That bear didn’t look as if he was dead, but he was. Now, suppose I had blown him all to pieces, and couldn’t find as much as a nail or a tooth left, I guess he would be deader then than he was when he just had my knife in between his ribs. Where did you say this fellow came from?” “What fellow?” “Why this man that you were with—this fellow Jean.” “Pain Court.” “Is that where you belong?” “Yes.” “Ever heard o’ Kit Carson?” “I have that!” said Reuben eagerly. “I know him. I have seen him.” “How long ago?” “He was there early in the summer not long before we left. Indeed, he wanted us to go with him.” “Why didn’t you?” remarked Rat. His eyes, which were unnaturally small, contracted as he spoke, until the expression startled the young trapper. “Because Jean thought we would do better not to go with a crowd, but to go off by ourselves.” “That Jean of yours is a fool.” “But I thought that is what you yourself said,” suggested Reuben, “and that you wanted to trap alone and not with a good many others.” “There’s a mighty sight o’ difference when I say it and when this friend o’ yours says it.” “What’s the difference?” “Look here, my friend,” said Rat, turning sharply upon his companion. “There are better men than you got into trouble from asking too many questions.” “But you asked a good many questions of me.” “Did I get into any trouble by askin’ ’em?” demanded Rat, as he laughed loudly. “Not yet.” “What do you mean by ‘not yet?’”