“I thought you war gobbled,” said Ben.
“So I was,” said Jules, coolly, with a sidelong look at the face of Millicent. “But you see I have escaped.”
His manner was constrained, and he tried to avoid the eyes of his companions. To their questioning he made answer that the Indians had ridden out upon the prairie, and soon after entered a defile in the hills—a dark and narrow pass. In this pass he managed to make his escape, leaving Bentley in the hands of the enemy.
“Couldn’t you ’a’ managed to cut his bonds loose, or least ways to give him a wink somehow?”
“No, I couldn’t,” said he, rather sulkily. “You don’t seem over glad I got away.”
“And glad we ar’ to see ye, though ye didn’t bring the young man with ye. It does my heart good to see ye. I gave ye up fer a goner. Lordy! when Whirling Breeze gits his claw on a white man, he ain’t got much chaince, unless the Injuns take a shine to him ez the Crows did to me. Did ye hear why they didn’t take our traps?”
“Something which the boy said; he is a son of Whirling Breeze.”
“I thought so; they ar’ alike ez picters. I’m glad I did the boy a good turn. I kain’t git it through me how Whirling Breeze ever let them traps alone. And the hosses! Who ever hern tell of an Injun leavin’ a hoss he could steal jest ez well ez not?”
“Never mind the boy; I will remember him to his cost,” said Jules.
“Where did you leave them?”