"Jim Ridge—"
"And his red-nigger companyero, Cherokee Bill!"
"No!" answered the captain, more warmly than with any of his negatives before.
"'Tis the Yager and his blood brother! I am sure we are near that haunt of theirs which no one has yet wormed out, and yet scores of daredevils have left the settlements to try to discover their places, as we are doing."
"My dear 'pal' Dick," replied Captain Kidd. "I do not underrate Old Jim. He is wise, expert, brave, with an enormous influence over all the prairie and mountain rangers from the Great Lakes to the Waterless Desert of the Apache Country. I defy anyone to tell certainly beforehand whether he will have the enmity or support of even those red men who most hate us whites as a rule. He must be our prisoner—our guide, by any means, mark, to the treasures of this region. Though it is a hard task to master him, he shall fall into our clutches, I promise you. But my fear is no more of him than of Canadians, Blackfeet, or Crows."
"Of whom, then, captain?"
"Have you seen any eagles on the sierra today?"
"No!"
"Or wild beasts in the glens?"
"No! But yesterday they were out of their retreats."