"You are very frank. You do not understand that an English gentleman does not let money influence him—"
"Bah, bah! An hidalgo, ay, a grandee of old Spain goes gold hunting and never dreams of a reproach to his blue blood, for the royal metal ennobles its seekers. That apart, if you are here for adventure, I foresee that you will have no lack of that—more mustard than beef!"
"Allow me another remark: whatever my taste as regards money, there is one thing I love more—my freedom."
"Great heavens! Then I am putting you in the place to be the freest in the band. What a pilot is at sea, a guide is to a hunters' band. The captain himself has to submit to many things onerous, which the guide escapes. He gives no one an account of his doings when he has been absent; he leaves at any hour and stays as long as he likes—the band must await him or go on to the rendezvous which he arranged. You cry 'halt!' when you are tired, or hungry, or athirst, and we halt under the tree you point out. Freedom? If I were not the captain, I'd rather be the guide, upon my honour!"
"If that is how a guide can act," remarked Dearborn, as if wavering, "I don't mind agreeing. It is fully understood that I accept out of kindness, and because, having saved your life, I wish to complete the work, and not leave you to be overwhelmed by a blizzard on the very threshold of the Enchanted Valley, as you esteem it!"
The captain joined in the laugh.
"More frankness," he proceeded. "My men are rough rogues, not worth the loop that will finish them, and I shall be the happier with a genuine gentleman the more at my side. Whatever your conditions, I gladly will pay them. Is it settled?"
"You shall be shown the Yellowstone Hole as if I were opening a drawing room door, captain."
"When may we start?"
"Tomorrow, sunrise."