“I say, what did old Gunson say?”
“Don’t ask me; don’t talk about it,” I said, for I felt half choking, I was so overset by the whole scene.
“Why, Mayne Gordon,” said Esau softly, as he laid his hand on my shoulder, “don’t go on like that. I ain’t nothing to you, and—”
“Esau,” I cried angrily, “will you hold your tongue? Hush! don’t say another word. Here’s Mr Gunson.”
“Yes,” said Esau, in rather an ill-used tone, “it always is ‘Here’s Mr Gunson!’”
“Breakfast’s waiting, my lads,” he said. “Make haste; I don’t want to keep the Indians long.”
“Keep the Indians?” I said. “Ah, you mean we ought to pay them something for saving him.”
“Yes, for one thing; but that is not all. They will easily be satisfied.”
“I sha’n’t give them anything,” said Esau sourly. “One of ’em tried to pull the hair off my head.”
“Nonsense! It must have been to get you into the boat. Here we are.”