The two prisoners protested their innocence, claiming that they had believed the story of Hicks about kidnapped nephews and stolen horses.
“Give us a chance to go back north or put us to work here. We’re innocent of any crime.”
“That sounds good,” said the officer, “the transport Northern Star leaves for St. Louis to-night or to-morrow. She is short of men. Restler and Stone, take these men back to Haynes Bluff and turn them over to the captain of the Northern Star. Tell the captain he will furnish me a good dinner when he returns from St. Louis.”
When the officer and his patrol had left, Barker turned to the group of teamsters.
“Men,” he said, with a choking voice, “you have done me a great service for which I can never repay you, but if you ever come north to Minnesota, I’ll show you the finest land the Lord put down on this earth.”
“Will it grow cotton and sweet potatoes?” drawled one of the men.
“No, it won’t do that, but it will grow everything else. Corn and wheat, fish and game, and great straight pines.”
The teams of wagons ahead began to move. The drivers cracked their whips and called: “Good-bye, old man. You’ll never see Hicks again. We’ll come north after we get through at Vicksburg.”
Barker went back and soon found Tatanka and the boys.
The three were much stirred by the news about Hicks and his two friends.