"Yeh talk too much with yer mouth," flung back Burroughs, as he moved toward the Englishman. "Ever been up the river before?" he demanded of Danvers.
"No." Philip barely glanced away from the lusty roustabouts working the donkey engines.
"Are yeh a 'non-com' or a commissioned officer?"
The young recruit turned stiffly, surprised at the persistence.
"Neither," he answered, laconically, returning to the survey of the swearing, sweating crew. Several bystanders laughed, and the mate remarked:
"You'll git nothin' outer that pilgrim that's enlightenin', Bob. He's too clost mouthed."
"Some say 'neether' an' some say 'nayther,' but 'nyther' is right," sneered Burroughs, "fer the Prince o' Wales says 'nyther.'"
Danvers, disdaining to notice the cheap wit, watched the brilliant sunshine struggling through the lessening rain as it danced from eddy to sand-bar, from rapids to half-submerged snags. The boiling river whitened as the steamboat labored to deeper water above the rapids. The islands, flushed with the fresh growth of a Northern spring, and the newly formed shore-line where the capricious Missouri had recently undermined a stretch of bank, gave character to the scene, as did the delicately virent leaves of swirling willow, quaking aspens and cottonwoods loosened from their place on shore to float in midstream.
A party of yelling Crees attracted their attention, and the stranger's indifference gave a combative twist to Burroughs' remark:
Something in his tone made the men draw nearer. Was it a sneer? A slur on all things English? A challenge to resent the statement, and resenting, to show one's mettle? Frontiersmen on the upper Missouri fought at a word in the early seventies. No need for cause. Men had been shot for less animus than Burroughs displayed.
"A fight?" asked Scar Faced Charlie, drawn from the cabin.
"No; a prayer-meeting," Toe String Joe gave facetious answer.
"Run back to our stateroom, Winnie," said Charlie, as he glanced at Burroughs' face. "What's the matter?" he inquired as she obeyed.
"Search me." Joe still acted as fourth dimension. "Bob and Danvers seem to hate each other on sight."
Burroughs moved nearer the quiet trooper.
"The Mounted Police think they're goin' to stop whiskey sellin' to the Injuns," he began. "But they can't. I know----" A meaning wink at his friends implied disloyalty even in the Force.