And the minute Totantora heard of Tom’s arrival, the Osage chief appeared at the door, standing with glittering eyes fixed on the ex-captain and unmoved expression of countenance while he waited to catch Tom’s attention.
“Bless my heart!” cried the rollicking Tom, “here’s my old buddy! Totantora, how are you?”
They shook hands, the Indian gravely but with an expression in his eyes that revealed a more than ordinary affection for the young white man. In France and along the Rhine Totantora, the Osage chief, had become the sworn follower of the drygoods merchant’s son—a situation to cause remark, if not wonder.
Tom had learned a few words of the Osage tongue and could understand some of Totantora’s gutturals. What the chief said seemed at one point to refer to Ruth, who, quite unconscious, was talking with Mr. Hammond across the room. Tom glanced at Ruth’s back and shook his head slightly. But he made no audible comment upon what the Indian said.
He did not, indeed, see much of Ruth that night; but in one moment of privacy she said to Tom:
“Do you want to make an early morning excursion—before Lazybones Helen is roused from her rosy slumbers?”
“Bet you!” was Tom’s boyish reply.
“Six o’clock, then, at the dock. If you are there first rouse out Willie, the boatman, and offer him a five dollar bill from me to take us through the islands in the Gem. That’s his boat.”
“I’ll find him to-night and make sure,” said Tom promptly.
“You are a faithful servitor,” laughed Ruth, and left him before Tom could take any advantage of her kindness.