“The truth is,” desperately replied Fred, “that I am trying to save her from the Arapahoes. They would kill her, if they should get her in their power.”
“This is still more strange. She has unsexed herself by fighting in their ranks, and now they wish to kill her. What has she done?”
“It is a long story, sir—so long that I have no time to tell it now. Let us pass on. Our doing so will save her life, and will not interfere with your mission.”
“I shall not allow it. There is more in this, Fred, than you are willing to tell me, and I mean to get at the truth. She is a fine-looking girl, the handsomest squaw I ever saw. In fact, she does not look like an Indian. Have you taken her from her people against her will?”
“No sir.”
“You have taken her, then, against their will.”
“I suppose I must admit that.”
“The truth is coming out, I see. Fred Wilder, reckless scapegrace as you are, I always believed you to be a gentleman, a man of honor. I never supposed that you could stoop so low as to take a mean advantage of any woman, even of a poor Indian girl.”
“Have you seen any thing to cause you to change your opinion?” proudly replied the young man.
“I ask you again, what is this Indian girl doing in your company? You have taken her from her people, and you are afraid that they will pursue you and take her back. What do you want to do with her?”