"Does he know Oonomoo?"
"Certainly; he has known him for several years."
"Well, den, dey will come together, and dey'll fix up fings so dat dey will got you out of dis place afore long."
"I hope so; I hope so. Death would not be more terrible than the suffering I undergo here, especially at night. Oh! will you not stay by me?" asked the prisoner, the tears starting to her eyes.
Hans Vanderbum gouged his fists into his own visual organs, and muttered something about "de dunderin' shmoke," before he could reply.
"Yesh, yesh, I 'tends to you. You needn't be 'fraid. Dey won't hurt you, I doesn't t'ink. Dey jist keeps you. May be dey burns you, but dat ain't sartain. I must go to Oonomoo now, for I've been away from him a good long while."
"Tell him I am hopeful."
"Ain't dere notting else to tell him?" asked Hans Vanderbum, still lingering.
"I know of nothing else. He certainly needs no advice from me."
"Notting to send to Lieutenant Canfield, eh?" again queried Hans.