Once more Joe's eyes glinted with that steely flash, and as he gazed out over the wide, darkening expanse of water his face grew cold and rigid.
"I'll allow I might hev told a more cheerful story, an' I'll do so next time; but I wanted ye all, particular the lasses, to know somethin' of the kind of country ye're goin' into.

The frontier needs women; but jist yit it deals hard with them.

An' Jim Girty, with more of his kind, ain't dead yit." "Why don't some one kill him ?" was Joe's sharp question.
"Easier said than done, lad.

Jim Girty is a white traitor, but he's a cunnin' an' fierce redskin in his ways an' life.

He knows the woods as a crow does, an' keeps outer sight 'cept when he's least expected.