That was so.
"We know that," replied the general, meekly; but I could see that he was boiling, inside.
It was awful stupid, just sitting, with those two fellows watching. Bat wore his big revolver, and Walt had his shotgun. They smoked their bad-smelling pipes, and played with an old deck of cards. Camping doesn't seem to amount to much with some fellows, except as a place to be dirty in and to smoke and play cards. They might as well be in town.
"Shall we escape?" I signed to the general. (Note 37.)
"No," he signed back. "Wait till twelve o'clock." He was going to keep our word, even if we did have a right to break it.
"Hand me my camera, will you, please?" asked Fitz, politely.
"What do you want of it?" demanded Walt.
"I want to use it. We haven't anything else to do."
"Sure," said Walt; he tossed it over. "Take pictures of yourselves, and show folks how you smart Scouts were fooled."
I didn't see what Fitz could use his camera on, here. And he didn't seem to be using it. He kept it beside him, was all. There weren't any animals around this kind of a camp. But the general and I didn't ask him any questions. He was wise, was old Fitzpatrick the Bad Hand, and probably he had some scheme up his sleeve.