"I'm your friend all right, Cap', but I can't do a thing that would make my old pop back in Missouri ashamed of me. Don't ask that."
O'Donnell appeared from somewhere. Powder-stains streaked his hair, face, and beard. His clothing was cut and torn, but his step was steady and firm. His eyes looked straight into Farquharson's. The Englishman returned him look for look.
"Brown, you know where to find me." The Captain held out his hand.
Brown shook it warmly. "Good-by, Cap'."
Farquharson mounted his horse and moved slowly away. O'Donnell and Brown were left alone.
"You and your 'Cap'n' have been having words?" O'Donnell asked.
"Sounded like it, did it?"
"I presume you do not know he is in the province for political reasons?"
"If I was of an inquiring turn of mind, I'd ask what business it is of yours whether I do or not."
O'Donnell laughed. "No business at all, friend Brown—no business at all. I happen to be a lover of the Stars and Stripes; consequently, no friend of Captain Farquharson's political intrigues here. Do you understand?"