“We might obviate that difficulty by keeping the boys here, and make the attack without imperiling them,” continued Lieutenant Gardiner.
Percy Vere objected strenuously to this.
“That would deprive me of the opportunity of gaining the knowledge I seek,” he urged, “nor would it be fair play to the Prophet.”
“Fair play to an Injun—waugh!” rejoined Glyndon, contemptuously.
“Smoholler was very generous toward us,” persisted Percy, “and I don’t think we ought to take an unfair advantage of him.”
“Percy’s right,” affirmed Cute. “He did the square thing by us, and so give old Smo’ a show!”
Blaikie laughed at the boys’ earnestness, though his words showed that he was of their way of thinking.
“The Prophet has shown a disposition to keep us back without bloodshed, if he could, as his warnings prove,” he said. “I know that but very little faith is to be placed in the tribes hostile to the whites, but this Smoholler may be an exception. He’s an uncommon Indian—there’s no mistake about that. Now, it appears to me, it would be best to let the boys go to him, learn what they can, and tell him that we have been strongly reinforced—let the Nez Perces light their watch-fires on the opposite bank of the river to that effect—and that he must give up the girl and withdraw his men, or we shall attack him.”
Glyndon shook his head, discontentedly.
“That won’t work,” he said—“I know it won’t—there’ll be no Smohollers within ten miles of here by morning, and they’ll take the girl along with them.”