"Yes, sorr. But the eyes an' hair of him, sorr. An' sure he has an Irish name. An' I was thinkin', beggin' your pardon, sorr, if you decided to kape him a spell, Shannon an' me'd look after him for ye, sorr. We Irish are all cousins, ye know, sorr."
Young Captain Lewis's mouth twitched; he shot a glance at Captain Clark, who smiled back.
"Does that sound to you like an Irish name, Captain? More like good old English, to me!"
"I was thinkin' again, sorr," pursued Pat, "that more like it's O'Kerr."
"That will do, Gass. Go forward and find Shannon, and the two of you tend to Floyd." Patrick saluted and trudged away. Captain Lewis continued, to Captain Clark: "There's something back of this, Will. Gass is too willing. I'll wager he and Shannon know more than we do."
"Oh, it's the Irish in him, Merne. Do you think they smuggled the lad aboard?"
"If they didwho brought you on this boat?" demanded the Long Knife Chief of Peter.
Peter shrugged his shoulders.
"I come," he said.
"Why?"
"Go with 'Nited States. Up big river."
"Who taught you to speak English?"
"My—mother," stammered Peter. "No English; 'Merican; Ken-tuck-y."
"Kentuckian!" blurted Captain Clark. "He is
