Of course, Mark was highly flattered by this show of respect, but believing, with a good many others in the settlement, that there was nothing good in an Indian, he did not know how much dependence to place upon his new ally.
“You’re a grand rascal, Jim,” he began.
“Me no Jim; me Mark Two Times,” insisted the wrestler.
“Well then, Mark Two Times, I am afraid you are a slippery customer. If you are really a friend to our fellows, as you profess to be, how does it come that you assisted Luke Redman and his band during the fight at the camp? Explain that, if you can.”
The Indian could and did. He accounted for that act of seeming unfriendliness by saying that he had joined the attacking party for no other purpose than to learn their plans, and that as long as he remained in their company he was obliged to act with them, in order to avoid exciting their suspicions. While the Swamp Dragoons and their allies were taking up their positions preparatory to making the assault, he had watched and waited in vain for an opportunity to slip away from them, and warn us of our danger.
He then went on to say that after the fight Luke Redman had given him two letters—one to be left on General Mason’s doorstep, and the other on our own. He had delivered the first, but he had given it into the general’s own hands, and told him just where to go to find the robbers.
After that, he had come to our house and waited for an opportunity to speak to Mark; and the reason he had dodged behind the bushes was because his courage failed him at the last moment, and he feared that he might meet with a warmer reception than he had bargained for.
He wound up his story by telling Mark that I was a prisoner, and that if he would trust to his guidance, he would lead him by a short route to my place of confinement.
“Of course I will go with you,” said Mark, highly excited over this last piece of news; “but bear one thing in mind, and that is, if you attempt to come any of your Indian tricks over me, it will be worse for you.”
While Mark was conversing with the young savage, mother had twice appeared at the door and called him to breakfast—a summons that he could not now think of answering.