“You’re another,” retorted Clarence, indignantly.
“You are! You are!” And with a cry like that of some wild animal, the woman ran and hid herself in the larger tent.
“Boy,” said Pete, “we’re going to take care of you.”
“Thank you; but if it’s all the same to you, I’d just as soon take care of myself.”
“You’ll do as I tell you,” said Pete, gazing angrily at the lad. “You may be a fraud. We will find out, and if your story is true, we’ll see about getting you back to your people.”
“Oh, you will, will you?—Good night!” and with this Clarence turned and dashed up the river. Pete, followed by Ezra, was after him at once. The old man was quick to catch up with him, and he made this fact known to the boy by striking him with his closed fist a blow on the mouth which brought him flat to the earth. Pete kicked his prostrate prey as he lay, and was about to renew his brutality, when Ben roughly pulled his senior away.
“Look here!” cried Clarence ruefully, as he picked himself up. “Next time you want me to do something, tell me. You needn’t punch ideas in through my mouth. I guess I can take a hint as well as the next one.”
“You’d better do what Pete says,” whispered Ben not unkindly. “It’s no use trying to get away from him. I’ll be your friend.”
“Thank you. By the way, would you call kicks and cuffs adventures?”
The man shrugged his shoulders.