e than a Mother Carey's chicken,' says I. `Come along, then,'
says he; `I'll tak' 'ee to a fust-rate shop.'

"So off we went arm in arm as thick as two peas, an' after passin'
through two or three streets he turns into a shop that smelt strong o'
coffee.

"`Hallo! mate,' says I, `you've made some sort o' mistake. This here
ain't the right sort o' shop.'

"`O yes, it is,' says he, smilin', quite affable-like. `The best o'
tipple here, an' cheap too. Come along. I've got somethin' very
partikler to say to you. Look here, waiter--two cups o' coffee, hot an'
strong, some buttered toast, an' no end o' buns, etceterer.'

"Wi' that he led me to a seat, an' we sat down. I was so took aback an'
amused that I waited to see what would foller an' what he'd got to say
that was so partikler--but, I say, Archie, them buffalo runners has got
the wind o' us, an' are showin' us their heels, I fear."

"Never fear," returned the boy, rising in his stirrups and shading his
eyes to look ahead. "They do seem to be leavin' us a bit, but you see
by the dust that the buffalo are holdin' away to the right, so if we
keep still more to the right an' cut round that knoll, I think we'll be
safe to catch them up. They're doin' good work, as the carcasses we've
passed and the rattle o' shots clearly show. But get on wi' your story,
Jenkins."

"Well, it ain't much of a story, lad. What Morel had to say was that
he'd arranged wi' an agent o' Lord Selkirk to come out to this country;
an' he was goin' out wi' a lot o' his relations, an' was beatin' up for
a few good hands, an' he liked the look o' me, an' would I agree to go
wi' him?

"Well, as you may believe, this was a poser, an' I said I'd think over
it, an' let him know next day. You see, I didn't want to seem to jump
at it too eager-like, though I liked the notion, an' I had neither wife,
nor sweetheart, nor father or mother, to think about, for I'm a orphing,
you see, like yourself, Archie--only a somewhat bigger one.

"Well, when we'd finished all the coffee, an' all the buns, an' all the
etceterers, he began to advise me not to ha' nothin' more to do wi'
grog-shops. I couldn't tell 'ee the half o' what he said--no, nor the
quarter--but he made such a impression on me that I was more than
half-convinced. To say truth, I was so choke-full o' coffee an' buns,
an' etceterers, that I don't believe I could ha' swallowed another drop
o' liquor.

"`Where are ye goin' now?' says he