After making answer as above, the old fellow sat for some time with his head between his knees, chewing, mumbling, and growling, like a lean old wolf, angry at being disturbed in his meal. "Come hyar, Rube! I want ye a bit," continued Garey, in a tone of half entreaty. "And so 'ee will want me a bit; this child don't move a peg till he has cleaned this hyur rib; he don't, now!" "Dog-gone it, man! make haste, then!" and the impatient trapper dropped the butt of his rifle to the ground, and stood waiting in sullen silence. After chewing, and mumbling, and growling a few minutes longer, old Rube, for that was the name by which the leathery sinner was known, slowly erected his lean carcass; and came walking up to the crowd. "What do 'ee want, Billee?" he inquired, going up to the trapper. "I want ye to hold this," answered Garey, offering him a round white shell, about the size of a watch, a species of which there were many strewed over the ground. "It's a bet, boyee?" "No, it is not." "Ain't wastin' yur powder, ar yur?" "I've been beat shootin'," replied the trapper, in an undertone, "by that 'ar Injun." The old man looked over to where the strange Indian was standing erect and majestic, in all the pride of his plumage. There was no appearance of triumph or swagger about him, as he stood leaning on his rifle, in an attitude at once calm and dignified. It was plain, from the way old Rube surveyed him, that he had seen him before, though not in that camp. After passing his eyes over him from head to foot, and there resting them a moment, a low murmur escaped his lips, which ended abruptly in the word "Coco." "A Coco, do ye think?" inquired the other, with an apparent interest. "Are 'ee blind, Billee? Don't 'ee see his moccasin?" "Yes, you're right, but I was in thar nation two years ago. I seed no such man as that." "He w'an't there." "Whar, then?" "Whur thur's no great show o' redskins. He may shoot well; he did oncest on a time: plumb centre." "You knew him, did ye?" "O-ee-es. Oncest. Putty squaw: hansum gal. Whur do 'ee want me to go?" I thought that Garey seemed inclined to carry the conversation further. There was an evident interest in his manner when the other mentioned the "squaw." Perhaps he had some tender recollection; but seeing the other preparing to start off, he pointed to an open glade that stretched eastward, and simply answered, "Sixty." "Take care o' my claws, d'yur hear! Them Injuns has made 'em scarce; this child can't spare another." The old trapper said this with a flourish of his right hand. I noticed that the little finger had been chopped off! "Never fear, old hoss!" was the reply; and at this, the smoky carcase moved away with a slow and regular pace, that showed he was measuring the yards.