“Yes. He’s not ashamed of it.”
“Perhaps she’ll be when he runs off and leaves her.”
“I advise you not to suggest that thing to Kit Carson the next time you see him. You’ll have more than a lame wrist to show for it if you do.”
“He took me off my guard,” protested Rat. “I wasn’t ready for him.”
“That wasn’t any fault of yours. He caught you before you could get ready. You were doing your best to get the drop on him.”
“That’s a lie!” shouted Rat. “I wasn’t doing anything of the kind! But then,” he added a moment later, his voice becoming lower, though it was plain that he had regained his self-control only by a great effort, “but then I have no desire to quarrel with Kit Carson nor any one in the camp. I would like to be friends with all, if they’d let me.”
“Do you mean you want to come back to camp?” inquired Reuben.
“Yes.”
The lad whistled and made no response until Rat said: “Don’t you think they would let me come?”
“If you will promise to be on your good behaviour, they’ll be glad to have you come. They wouldn’t have you there a minute, though, if you tried the trick you did before.”