"What can I say that my father does not know?" the girl replied, suspiciously.
"My sister wishes to save the palefaces, is it not so?"
"Well, yes," she said, with exaltation; "for reasons I cannot tell you, these men, who, a few days back, were hateful to me, have become dear to me; today I would save them at the peril of my life."
"Yes," the old man said, as if speaking to himself, "women are so; like the leaves the wind carries off, their mind changes its direction with the slightest breath of passion."
"Now you know my secret," she continued boldly, "I do not care about having discovered it to you; act as you think proper, but no longer count on me."
"On the contrary," the Apache replied with his sardonic smile, "I count on you more than ever."
"What do you mean?"
"Well," Black Cat continued, after taking a searching glance around, and letting his voice drop, "I wish to save them too."
"You?"
"I. Did not the pale chief enable me to escape the death that awaited me in the Comanche village? Did he not share with me as a brother the firewater of his gourd, to give me strength to sit my horse, and rejoin the warriors Of my tribe? Black Cat is a great chief. Ingratitude is a white vice; gratitude is a red virtue. Black Cat will save his brother."