"Say," he continued, "say, young feller, what's yer name?"
"Rolf Kittering."
"Say, Rolf, you wait a week or ten days, and the ice 'll be out;
then I'll be fit to travel. There ain't on'y a few carries
between here an' Lyons Falls."
After a long pause, due to Quonab's entry, he continued again:
"Moose River's good canoeing; ye can get me out in five days; me
folks is at Lyons Falls." He did not say that his folks
consisted of a wife and boy that he neglected, but whom he
counted on to nurse him now.
Rolf was puzzled by the situation.
"Say! I'll give ye all them furs if ye git me out." Rolf gave
him a curious look -- as much as to say, "Ye mean our furs."
Again the conversation was ended by the entry of Quonab.
Rolf stepped out, taking the Indian with him. They had a long
talk, then, as Rolf reentered, the sick man began:
"You stay by me, and git me out. I'll give ye my rifle" -- then,
after a short silence -- "an' I'll throw in all the traps an' the
canoe."
"I'll stay by you," said Rolf, "and in about two weeks we'll take
you down to Lyons Falls. I guess you can guide us."
"Ye can have all them pelts," and again the trapper presented the
spoils he had stolen, "an' you bet it's your rifle when ye get me out.
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