CHAPTER XIII.
The three walked silently forward for a considerable distance, when Gaylor paused, and, stepping in front, so as to face the two, he spoke as a man speaks when in earnest.
“See here Jim and Ned, as I believe you call each other, I’ve got a few words to say to you. I’m a pretty bad man, but when one does me a kindness, I’m like an Indian, and don’t forget it. I want to thank you Ned, again, for what you tried to do. This here darkey has been the means of saving my life, when I’d given up. I spoke mean to him awhile ago, I want to ask his pardon for that, and give him my thanks.”
“Gorry, don’t say nuffin’ ’bout it,” said Jim, drawing his huge hand across his eyes, “’tain’t worth spoken ’bout. It’s all right.”
“I’m glad to hear it. When you hear me speak again as I did of a black man awhile ago, it will be when I hain’t got any senses left. But see here, I’ve got something I’m going to do for you. You have another man with you, haven’t you? One who is the leader.”
“Yes; my brother George.”
“Take me to him.”
“Hold on,” interrupted Jim, “I’d like to get dat gun ob mine. I know where I left it up among de grass ’long de creek where dey lassoed me.”
“Lead on then.”