“Don’t ye do it!” he yelled. “Help! somebody, help! The Indians have come to murder us all in our beds! Don’t touch my hair! I nade it, I do!”
He wanted to run, but one of the wrapped-up figures caught him by the arm, while the other raised his hatchet threateningly.
“White boy be silent!” was the command. “No speak a word.”
“Fer the sake o’ me family!” groaned Teddy. “Please let me go!”
“White boy good to eat maybe?”
“To eat is it! Oh, my! just to hear o’ that now! No, I’m no good to eat! I’m tough, terribul tough! If ye try to eat me ye’ll break yer teeth!”
At this came a snicker from behind the trees.
“Say, but he’s scared right enough,” murmured Bart.
“Down on your knees—your Japanese,” went on Harry, giving his hatchet a wild flourish.
“Oh! oh! Don’t sca—scalp me!” groaned Teddy, and fell on his knees.