Tom laughed. "That is not cheering," he said.

"It ain't. I don't say as an old hand on the plains might not manage it.
He would know the sort of place Harry and his mates would be likely to
be prospecting, he would know the ways of the red-skins and how to
travel among them without ever leaving a trail or making a smoke, but
even for him it would be risky work, and not many fellows would care to
take the chances even if they knew the country well. But for a
tenderfoot to start out on such a job would be downright foolishness.
There are about six points wanted in a man for such a journey. He has
got to be as hard and tough as leather, to be able to go for days
without food or drink, to know the country well, to sleep when he does
sleep with his ears open, to be up to every red skin trick, to be able
to shoot straight enough to hit a man plumb centre at three hundred
yards at least, and to hit a dollar at twenty yards sartin with his
six-shooter. If you feel as you have got all them qualifications you can
start off as soon as you like, and the chances aren't more'n twenty to
one agin your finding him."

"I haven't anyone of them," Tom said.

"Waal, it is something if you know that, young chap. It is not every
tenderfoot who would own up as much. You stick to it that you don't know
anything, and at the same time do your best to learn something, and you
will do in time. You look a clean-built young chap, and you could not
have a better teacher than Straight Harry. What he don't know, whether
it is about prospecting for gold or hunting for beasts, ain't worth
knowing, you bet. What is your name, mate?"