It was evident to Putney, for it was indeed he, that Imogene had not yet recognized him as being one of her abductors, for what other reason could possibly have induced her to surrender herself into his hands unless it was that she still deemed him to be the character he had so basely assumed—a stanch American patriot, and the thought seemed to give infinite pleasure to the ruffian.
“So we’ve found ye at last,” he growled.
“Oh, Hank!” exclaimed Imogene, with delight, without noticing his rough salutation, as she approached the scout, her hands extended to welcome him, “I am so glad to have met you.”
“Yes?” answered Putney, with a sinister smile on his countenance.
“I have been in this dreary place the entire day, without either food or drink,” and Imogene shuddered as she commenced to relate the particulars of her abduction and escape, but the scout interrupting her, replied:
“I know all about it.”
“Have you captured some of the miscreants?”
“Not exactly.”
“Then you have been informed of their vile plot?”
“That neither.”