“No, I don’t,” replied Julian. “I never ran a race with you in my life. I never saw you until to-night.”
“Didn’t! Wol, I’ve seed you a good many times durin’ the last two months, an’ have talked with you, too; but I was dressed up like a gentleman then, an’ mebbe that’s the reason you don’t recognize me now. Dick thinks he knows more about you than anybody else, but I reckon he don’t.”
“Who is Dick?” asked the boy.
“He’s the feller who was talkin’ to me to-night while you were settin’ in that wagon listenin’ to us. I didn’t know you were about thar until Dick had gone back into the camp, an’ then I seed you come down from the wagon. I wanted to get you away from thar, ’cause I was afeared that if you were in the camp durin’ the fight some of the Injuns might send a ball or arrer into you, an’ that would have been bad fur me an’ my mates, ’cause it would have tuk jest $5,000 out of our pockets. I didn’t see no chance to slip up an’ make a pris’ner of you without alarmin’ the emigrants, so I come back here an’ got one of my men, an’ me an’ him made up that story we told you. It worked first-rate, didn’t it.”
Julian Suddenly Found Himself a Prisoner in the Trappers’ Camp.—See page [21].
“But you have not yet told me who Dick is,” said Julian, without answering the outlaw’s question. “How did he become acquainted with me; and what reason has he for wishing me put out of his way? I heard him say that he would give you a thousand dollars if you would kill me.”
“Them’s his very words. But you needn’t be no ways skeary, ’cause I wouldn’t hurt a hair of your head—not while I can make more money by takin’ good care of you. As fur the reasons Dick’s got fur havin’ somethin’ agin you, that’s his business an’ not mine. Mebbe you’ll know all about it one of these days. But I reckon we might as well be movin’ now. What have you done with the critters, Tom?”