“You merit the name. Does the Wyandot warrior know you?”
“Undoubtedly. I’ve traded among the members of the tribe, for years.”
“Do you speak their language?”
“I speak several Indian tongues.”
“So much the better. Our mutual knowledge may be of value to us.”
They were conversing in low tones, all the while proceeding in the direction of the council-lodge.
“And they call you Scar Face,” Douglas carelessly remarked.
“Yes,” answered his companion, in a tone of intense bitterness—the red scar upon his cheek blazing like a beacon light of danger.
Ross instantly realized his mistake, and hastened to say: