There was a significance in these words which made it plain to every
one of those who were looking up in the scarred face of the hunter.
As they were spoken, he winked one of his eyes and cocked his head to
one side, in a fashion that made the words still more impressive. As
Sut looked about the group, his gaze was attracted by two figures--a
man and a boy. The former was an Irishman--his nationality being
evident at the first glance--while the latter seemed about fourteen
years of age, with a bright, intelligent face, a clear, rosy, healthy
complexion, and a keen eye that was fixed steadily and inquiringly
upon the horseman who was giving utterance to such valuable
information. The hunter was attracted by both, especially as he saw
from their actions that they were friends and companions. There was
something in the honest face of the Irishman which won him, while the
lad by his side would have carried his way almost anywhere upon the
score of his looks alone.

As the entire group were gazing up in the face of the scout, he spoke
to them all, although, in reality, his words were now directed more at
the two referred to than at the others. When he had completed the
words given, there was silence for a moment, and then Mickey O'Rooney,
the Irishman, recovered his wits. Stepping forward a couple of paces,
he addressed their visitor.

"From the manner of your discourse, I judge that you're acquainted
with the American gentleman that you've just referred to as Mr. Lone
Wolf?"

"I rather reckon I am," replied Sut, with another of his peculiar
grins. "Me and the Wolf have met semi-occasionally for the past ten