Myengeen could speak no English, but the spoken name and the tone were significant enough. He fell back a step, and scowled at Stonor as if he suspected him of a desire to make fun of him. Then his eyes went involuntarily to Hooliam. Stonor, following his glance, was struck by the odd, self-conscious leer on Hooliam’s comely face. Suddenly it flashed on him that this was his man. His face went blank with astonishment. The supposed Hooliam laughed outright.
“Is this Imbrie??” cried Stonor.
Myengeen nodded sullenly.
Hooliam said something in Kakisa that caused the surrounding Indians to grin covertly.
And in truth there was a comic aspect to Stonor’s dismay. His brain was whirling. This hardy young villain married to the exquisite Clare! This the saviour of the Indians! This the high-minded gentleman whose diary Clare had read to him! It was inexplicable. Yet Stonor suddenly remembered Hooliam’s curiosity concerning the reports that were in circulation about the White Medicine Man; this was understandable now. But how could Clare have so stooped——? Well, it must be left to time to unravel.
He pulled himself together. “So you’re Imbrie,” he said grimly.
“That was my dad’s name,” was the impudent reply.
“I’ll have to trouble you to take a journey with me.”
“What’s the charge?”
“Oh, we merely want to look into your doings up here.”