“Freeze me then, if you haven’t got grit.  Thar ain’t many that would track through the woods that ar long.  And ye haven’t caught a glimpse of the gal nor heard nothin’ of her?”

“Not a thing yet; but it’s meself that ’xpacts to ivery day.”

“In course, or ye wouldn’ keep at the business.  But s’pose, my friend, you go on this way for a year more—­what then?”

“As long as I can thravel over the airth and Miss Cora isn’t found, me faat shall niver find rest.”

The trapper indulged in an incredulous smile.

“You’d be doing the same, Tim, if yees had iver laid eyes on Miss Cora or had iver heard her speak,” said Teddy, as his eyes filled with tears.  “God bliss her! she was worth a thousand such lives as mine—­”

“Don’t say nothin’” interrupted the trapper, endeavoring to conceal his agitation; “I’ve l’arned years ago what that business is.  The copperskins robbed me of a prize I’ll never git agin, long afore you’d ever seen one of the infarnal beings.”

“Was she a swateheart?”

“Never mind—­never mind; it’ll do no good to speak of it now.  She’s gone—­that’s enough.”

“How do you know she can’t be got agin, whin—­”

“She was tomahawked afore my eyes—­ain’t that enough?” demanded the trapper, indignantly.

“I axes pardon, but I was under the impression they had run away with her as they did with Miss Cora.”

“Hang ’em, no!  If they’d have done that I’d have chased ’em to the Pacific ocean and back agin afore I’d give ’em up.”

“And that’s what meself intends to do regarding Miss Cora.”

“Yer see, yer don’t know much about red-skins and their devilments, and therefore, it’s my private opine, instead of getting the gal, they’ll git you, and there’ll be the end on’t.”

“Tim, couldn’t yees make the s’arch wid me?” asked Teddy, in a deeply earnest voice.  The trapper shook his head.

“Like to do’t, but can’t.  It’s time I was up to the beaver runs this night and had my traps set.  Yer see I’m compelled to be in St. Louey at the end of six months and hain’t got a day to spare.”

“Mister Harvey has money, or, if he hasn’t, he has friends in St. Louis, be the same token, that has abundance of it, and you’d find it paid you bitter in the ind than catching poor, innocent beavers, that niver did yees harm.”

“I don’t foller sich business for money, but I’ve agreed to be in St. Louey at the time I was tellin’ you, and it’s allers a p’int of honor with me to keep my agreements.”

“Couldn’t yees be doing that, and this same thing, too?”

“Can’t do’t.  S’pose I should git on the trail that is lost, can yer tell me how fur I’d have to foller it?  Yer see I’ve been in that business afore, and know what it is.  Me and three others once chased a band of Blackfeet, that had carried off an old man, till we could see the peaks of the Rocky Mountains, and git a taste of the breath of wind that comes down from their ice and snow in middle summer.”