Black Tom was somewhat pleased with Hammond; he had that admiration for a learned man which the ignorant invariably feel, and he saw from the manner of his speaking that he was a “scholar.” Besides that he possessed a blandness of manner that predisposed all in his favor--but, at the same time, he was not prepared as yet to invite him to make one of their party. There was a mystery, which the trapper was desirous to penetrate, and with characteristic bluntness he put his questions point-blank. “What brings yer in this part of the country?” Hammond looked at him rather quizzically; the movement of his whiskers showed that he was smiling. “It is _not_ the object that brings _you_ and your companions here.” “What do you know ’bout that?” “All.” “What is it?” “_Gold._” “Wal, you’re right--no use denyin’ that--but, how do you know it, Hammond? That’s what I’d like to know.” “Why, my dear fellow, I know that you and two comrades have taken up your head-quarters down the cañon; I know also that there is gold here. All that remains for me to do, is to put this and that together.” “Wal, you ain’t nobody’s fool,” returned the trapper, after a moment’s pause, “but I don’t know, arter all, but what a fool could have told that. Ain’t you huntin’ arter gold?--now, honest--no foolin’.” “No, sir,” was the response. “Why ain’t yer?” Hammond laughed quite heartily before he answered: “Your questions are rather pointed, Tom, and such as I deem too pointed you will permit me to decline answering.” “Sartinly; you needn’t answer any, if they don’t suit you.” “I am aware of that, Tom; therefore, I am not hunting for gold for the simple reason that I don’t need it. There is considerable of the precious metal about here, but it can only be obtained by hard labor, and when I am at home I am in comfortable circumstances. Is that satisfactory, Tom?” “Yas. Wal, I’m poor, and so are all the chaps that be with me, and we think we see a chance to better ourselves.” “So you do; go ahead and you will do well enough.” “You’ve been here several months?” “Yes; during most of the season.” “And hain’t huntin’ arter gold?” “Not at all.” “See yer,” suddenly exclaimed Black Tom, “have you seen any thing of that striped and speckled critter that chaws up red-skins whole?” “I know the animal to which you refer,” replied Hammond, more seriously. “I have seen it more than once.” “Did it ever hurt yer?” “I don’t look dangerously hurt, do I?” laughed Hammond, as he surveyed his own person, as if searching for grievous wounds. “No; it has never harmed me, but it _has_ killed many a one.” “Don’t you know nothin’ ’bout it?” “Haven’t I told you enough?” This was evasive, but it answered the purpose for which it was uttered. Hammond knew a great deal about this anomalous creature. Indeed, had he chosen, he could have told the secret regarding it--a most wonderful secret, which the reader shall learn in due time.