"Noble! Well, he's the next thing to human, Mr. Bordine. Somebody poisoned his mate, so't I have to foot it where once I rode in my carriage. If your anyways hungry, mister, I can give you grub enough such as 'tis."
The engineer assured the queer fellow that he had no desire to eat since it was late when he left home.
"How'd you come in the creek?"
Should he tell the true story to this deformed fellow, who had befriended him? Could there be any harm in it?
"Speak right out, young man. You've been into a muss of some sort, and I sympathise with you."
"I am glad to hear you say that."
After a moment given to reflection, the engineer told the story of his being decoyed from home, and of the attempt upon his life by the tramp, and the man from Grandon.
Not a word did the one-eyed man utter during the recital, but the fire in that single eye grew to a deeper flame, and he pushed up the black patch in a way that betokened extreme nervousness.
The eye beneath the patch did not seem defective to Bordine, yet the slight view he obtained of it was not sufficient to make sure as to that.
When he had finished, the peddler opened his lips to give utterance to one word: