“Teddy, where have you been?”

“Won’t that spake for itself?” he replied, holding up a handsome string of fish.  “Begorrah, but it was mighty poor luck I had hunting.”

“I should judge you had discovered something unusual from your strange actions.”

The face of the Irishman flushed scarlet, and his confusion was distressing.  “Teddy,” he continued, “I am displeased at the manner in which you have acted for the last week or two.  Had it not happened that I left the village sooner than usual to-day, most probably my wife and son would have been killed.”

The fellow was completely sobered.

“What is it ye say, Mister Harvey?”

“For several days you have failed to return in the time you promised, so that I have been compelled to leave them alone and unprotected.  This afternoon, an Indian came in the house and threatened the life of both my wife and child—­”

“Where the divil is he?” demanded Teddy, springing up; “I’ll brake ivery bone in his body.”

“He is gone, never to return I trust.”

“Be the powers! if I could but maat him—­”

“Do not add falsehood to your conduct.  He said that you and he have met constantly and drank liquor together.”

The expression of blank amazement was so genuine and laughable that the missionary could hardly repress a smile.  He felt that his last remark was hardly fair.  Teddy finally burst out.

“’Twas that owld Mahogany copperskin; but did I iver ’xpact he was up to sich a trick and he would niver have l’aved me a-fishing.  Oorah, oorah!” he muttered, gnashing his teeth together.  “What a miserable fool I have been.  He to come here and insult me mistress after professin’ the kindest regards.  May I be made to eat rat-tail files for potaties if iver I trust red-skin honor again!”

“It strikes me that you and this precious savage had become quite intimate.  I suppose in a few weeks longer you would have left us and lived with him altogether.”

The tears trickled down Teddy’s cheeks, and he made answer in a meek, mournful tone: 

“Plaise forgive me, Mister Harvey, and Miss Cora.  Yees both knows I would die for yees, and it was little I dr’amed of a savage iver disecrating this house by an ungentlemanly act.  Teddy never’ll sarve yees the like agin.”

“I have no faith in the promises of a man who is intemperate.”

The Irishman raised his hand to heaven: 

“May the good Father above strike me dead if I iver swallow another drop!  Do yees belave me now.  Mister Harvey?”

“You must not place the reliance in your own power, Teddy.  Ask His assistance and you’ll succeed.”

“I’ll do so; but, ye saa, the only mill where I could get the cursed stuff was of this same Indian, and as I politely towld him I’d practice wid me gun on him if he offered me anither drop, and, as I’d pick him off now, after this shine, as quick as I would a sarpent, it ain’t likely he’ll bother me agin.”