"No. I wished to make you a proposal."
"What is it?" the other eagerly asked.
"Listen. I picked you up in a most desperate state."
"That is true: I allow it."
"Although some people say," Fray Antonio continued, "that you received your wounds in fighting against us, and, indeed, some of our men declare themselves certain of the fact, I would not put faith in their words. I know not why, but since I have been nursing you, I have grown to take an interest in you; I should not like the cure I have carried on hitherto so successfully, to break down. This is what I propose: about one hundred miles from the spot where we now are, there is an encampment of white men and half-breeds, over whom I possessed considerable influence some time back. I believe that they have not yet quite forgotten me, and that anyone joining them as from me, would meet with a kindly reception. Will you go there? It is a risk to run."
"How could I perform this journey in my present state of weakness and prostration?"
"That need not trouble you. Four men, who are devoted to me, will conduct you to my old friends."
"Oh, if that be the case," the Scalper exclaimed eagerly, "I gladly accept. If I perished on the road, I would prefer that to remaining here alone."
"I trust that you will not perish, but reach your destination all right. So that is agreed. You will go?"
"With the greatest pleasure. When do we start?"