He used to hunt down and kill the big bloated ones on the plains, and even the snow won't keep him from tracing 'em to their dens here in the mountains." Reed, after the custom of his kind, looked the sergeant up and down with a frank stare.
"'Pears to be a good man," he said, "hefty in build an' quick in the eye.
Glad to know you, Mr.Whitley.

You an' me may take part in a shootin' bee together an' this old long-barreled firearm uv mine kin give a good account uv herself." He patted his rifle affectionately, a weapon of ancient type, with a long slender barrel of blue steel, and a heavy carved stock.

It was just such a rifle as the frontiersmen used.

Dick's mind, in an instant, traveled back into the wilderness and he was once more with the great hunters and scouts who fought for the fair land of Kain-tuck-ee.

His imagination was so vivid that it required only a touch to stir it into life, and the aspect of the mountains, wild and lonely and clothed in snow, heightened the illusion.
"I s'pose from what you tell us that you'll have the chance to use it, Mr.Reed," said the sergeant.
"I reckon so," replied the mountaineer emphatically.