“I’d like to go, but I don’t believe I can, Maria,” faltered Jimmie. “I’ve got to stay with the atajo.”
“Are you an arriero? Who is your patron?” inquired Maria. “I will ask him.”
But Patron Jack Long already had the matter on his tongue.
“Hyar’s a muchacho (boy) you can have, if you want him, cap’n,” Jack was saying to the cavalry captain. “He lived with old Cochise a while in these very diggin’s. Speaks ’Pache, an’ consider’ble Mex. Reckon we can spar’ him from the pack outfit, if you’ll fetch him back to Bowie ’fore we leave thar.”
“Does he speak English, though?” demanded the captain. “I’ve got a guide with me—Maria, there—who speaks Mexican and Apache.”
“Does he savvy Americano? Sure he does, bein’ that his name’s Jimmie Dunn, an’ his folks were both ’Mericans ’fore the ’Paches got ’em, an’ he’s been brung up by Joe Felmer at Grant. Speak American? Speaks it better’n I do, ’cause he had schoolin’ back East.”
“All right. I’ll take him, and much obliged to you,” said the captain. “Lived with Cochise, did he? How was that?”
“’Cause he couldn’t help it. Thar warn’t any ‘how’ to it, ’cept the ‘how’ o’ stayin’ close an’ playin’ possum till he had a chance to skip out. The Chiricahua jumped him an’ some o’ Pete Kitchen’s sheep south o’ Tucson a couple o’ year ago, an’ tuk him along same time they tuk yore Mexican. That Maria Jilda an’ him were captives together. He’s chi-kis-n to Nah-che, old Cochise’s son. But he’s plumb American ag’in, now. If you meet up with any ’Paches an’ want to talk with ’em, he’ll interpret for you.”
“Hah!” exclaimed the cavalry captain, eying Jimmie, as did the other men. “He’ll do finely, then. Come with us, boy. We’ll return you to your outfit to-morrow. Let’s go on, gentlemen.”
“Wall, I don’t wish you any hard luck—or that Gin’ral Howard, either,” called Jack, after—for Jack said whatever he chose. “But ’cordin’ to my notion the peacefulest kind o’ Chiricahua is a dead Chiricahua, an’ you can tell Cochise Jack Long says so. Hey, Jimmie!” continued Jack. “You tell yore chi-kis-n to tell his dad thar’s a gent in a canvas suit, up at Whipple, who’s comin’ down hyar pronto (quick) with a double-bar’l ‘peace policy’ guaranteed to turn wild ’Paches into tame ones.”