Pedro was tall and slim, with the agility of a tiger combined with the ferocity of a grizzly bear.
He addressed his companion as Hoskins, and between the two they seemed to be effecting a compromise in regard to some bargain of which the nature was soon made manifest.
A faint long-drawn sigh, that told of unspoken misery close beside him, made the boy give a start, and it was with the utmost difficulty that he repressed the exclamation that arose to his lips when his eyes were turned in that direction.
From the pole of the lodge a long torch was stuck out, and the light of this served to illuminate the half where the men sat, but the cabin part was rather dim.
Guided by that sigh, however, the boy had little trouble in making out a small girlish form that crouched rather than sat upon a pile of furs, and seemed to be intently regarding the two men who laughed and grew merry over the whisky keg.
"Adele!" was the cry that arose to that brother's lips, but he bravely repressed it, and also the longing that had seized upon him to clasp that dear form to his breast and defy all enemies.
Although his ears were drinking in all that the two men said, yet his eyes were steadily glued upon the light form.
Hark! the Creole was speaking while he held up a tin cup that had lately belonged to one of Custer's men, and squinted with his one eye at its contents.
"Carramba! Hoskins, my price I think exceedingly reasonable. If you only knew the time and money I've spent in this matter, and what deadly enemies I've made by my exploit, you wouldn't begrudge me a picayune. Begar! I sent one of them to his long home in the fight to-day," and Pedro gave a hoarse laugh that grated on the nerves like a file, and would have set a sensitive person crazy.
The boy started, and unconsciously his hand sought his head where the bullet had glanced from it.