As a quick way to settle it, though it was an act of imprudence, he called out, in a guarded voice:
"Halloa there, friends!"
"Halloa; are you white?"
"Yes—"
"What's de use ob lyin' so shamefully as dat?" broke in Gimp; "if I'm white den you're black."
"I declare, Gravity, I forgot all about it!" laughed the lieutenant, and then, raising his voice, he said:
"We are one black and one white, fugitives from Wyoming, and hunting for friends."
"That hits us," was the response; and the next moment, to the surprise and delight of Godfrey, seven men came to view in the small moonlit clearing, and waited for him to advance and show himself.
He lost no time in doing so, and, as briefly as possible, explained how it was he and the African were there, and how necessary it was that help should be immediately sent their friends, in the custody of Jake Golcher, the Tory, and his Senecas.
"Now you're shouting," was the hearty response of the leader of the seven, who announced his name as Dick Durkee; "that's what we're here for, though we're a little behind time."