“Yes, sir; nobody goes with me. I live alone in these woods, except when I meet a friend, as I have met you to-night; but I never stay with them long, so you needn’t be anxious regarding me, ’cause I’ll leave you as soon as it is daylight.”
This was intended to be reassuring, but it was anything but that, and made Inwood more uneasy than ever. His great fear was that there were others close at hand, and the darkness, gloom and solitude gave opportunity for treachery. He did not see how he could rid himself of his dangerous visitor; but Jim now spoke up:
“See here, Mr. Buffin, I wants to ax you a question.”
“I am at your service, sir.”
“Did you ’serbe me when I dropped dese saddles?”
“I noticed that you let something fall as I came up, but I didn’t pay any attention. It was no concern of mine, you know.”
“You didn’t tink—dat is, you don’t tink dere be any gold about dat?”
“Course not; why should I think so?”
“All right, Mr. Buffer, I doesn’t want you to tink so—jes’ ’member dat if you please.”
George Inwood was greatly irritated, but there was such an air of simplicity about what Jim said, that it was impossible not to be amused. When the African received the reply of Mr. Muffin, he seemed satisfied, and seated himself upon the saddles.