"What's that?" demanded the inspector.
Ambrose explained where his dog was to be found. They looked at him curiously as if surprised that such a desperate criminal should be solicitous about a dog. The trooper promised to bring him.
Inspector Egerton continued to issue his orders. "Bafford, ride back and bring up the baggage. Have my tent pitched in the middle of the valley below. Emslie"—this was the yellow-haired youth—"I shall hold you responsible for the white prisoner. You needn't handcuff him. He couldn't escape if he wished to."
Ambrose had to undergo the humiliation of walking down hill at the stirrup of the young trooper's horse. Emslie showed a less hard face than some of the others.
Ambrose sought to establish relations with him by asking for tobacco. He was hungry for speech with his own kind. But the look of cold contempt with which his request was granted precluded any further advances.
Upon Inspector Egerton's return from the Kakisa village a meal was served. Afterward the inspector sat at his folding-table inside his tent and held his investigations.
There was a deal of business to be transacted. In due course Ambrose was brought before him. Watusk, whose services were in continual demand as interpreter, was present, and several troopers.
"It is customary to ask a prisoner upon arrest if he has anything to say for himself," said the inspector. "I must warn you that anything you say may be used against you."
Ambrose felt their animosity like a wall around him. "What's the use?" he said sullenly. "You've already convicted me in your own mind."
"What I think of your case has nothing to do with it," said the inspector coldly. "You will be brought before competent judges."