After a while Banks took Barker aside.
“Say, Sam,” he spoke in a low voice, “it seems sort of strange, but I reckon there was a fellow here looking for you just this morning. He asked whether we ones had seen a white man with an Indian and two boys traveling down river?
“Hadn’t the faintest idea you could be the man he referred to. You hadn’t any beard and gray hair when I saw you last, but sure as I’m Dick Banks, his story fits your party exactly. Fellow seemed to be mighty set on finding you. Told us you had kidnapped his two nephews and stolen two horses of him ’way up in Minnesota. Said he was going to swear out a warrant and have you arrested.”
“That dirty pup,” exclaimed Barker, with his eyes flashing. “My Indian and I saved those lads from being murdered by the Sioux. The lads rode away on our own horses and we didn’t even take a blanket of the dirty bootlegger. The old squint-eyed scoundrel deserted the lads. Dern his soul! I always believed he wanted them to get killed. He doesn’t want them to get back home for some reason. My Indian and I are going to take them home to Vicksburg. I knew Hicks in Indiana. He always was a blackguard.”
Dick Banks puffed vigorously at his corncob pipe.
“Sam,” he replied, “I’ll tell you something. You used to be some scrapper back in Indiana. I figure you could handle that friend of yours all right, but you might as well go back with me to St. Louis. You can’t get into Vicksburg.”
“And why can’t I get in?”
“You haven’t seen as much of the war as I have seen. I have been clear down to Haynes Bluff a little way above Vicksburg. Grant and his men have got the place bottled up. You can’t get in. Gunboats, big ones, little ones, the whole river is full of them. Guards and soldiers everywhere. Don’t try it, Sam. They might think you were a spy and hang you. Those army courts aren’t as good-natured as our old Indiana juries.”
“No, Dick,” the trapper argued. “I can’t go back with you. I’m going to take those boys home. I’ll either fight Hicks or give him the slip. We’re going to Vicksburg. May be I can get a pass through the lines.”
“All right then, Sam; I’ve said my say. Get a pass? Why, man, Abe Lincoln himself couldn’t get a pass! You’re as set on having your way as you were as a kid.