“That’s what you say.”
“I’se sure.”
A messenger boy attached to the caravanserai came in, and holding up a letter, spoke.
“Harkaway’s friend, Girdwood!” he exclaimed.
“That is me,” replied Harry, who had come down to smoke a cigar.
“The letter is addressed that way.”
“I’ll take it.”
He did so, and opening it, read:
“Dear Old Harry:—I am in a most confounded fix.
“In the kaiaba I met Hunston and Mordecai. They are both my enemies.