“Don’t be alarmed; I mean you no harm,” he said, quickly. “If I had wished to denounce you, there wouldn’t have been any need of bringing you into my house. All that would be necessary would be to speak your name in the middle of this station. Why, the very sticks themselves that form the stockade would rise out of the ground to seize you, to say nothing of the men.”
“For whom do you take me?” asked the stranger, in a hoarse voice.
“For the man for whose body, dead or alive, the settlers on the border would give more than they would for any other man that walks upon earth, be his skin white or red,” replied Murdock.
The stranger glanced at him with sullen eyes.
“Be assured, however,” continued the young man, “that I mean you no harm. On the contrary, I need your aid, and I’m willing to pay you well for it. Come, is it a bargain?”
“You know my name?” said the stranger, slowly, without replying to the question.
“Yes, you are—” and Murdock, bending over, whispered a name in the ear of the stranger. “Am I right?” he asked.
“Yes,” said the stranger, sullenly. “But I cannot understand how you penetrated my disguise.”
“Particularly when it deceived Boone and a half-score of your deadly foes, who would be almost willing to give ten years of their lives to draw a bead on you at fair rifle range.”
“That is possible,” replied the other; “but the bullet is not yet run that will take my life.”