"Who is he?"
"An Indian."
"What?"
"The Indian boy Verty—you have seen him, I know."
Mr. Roundjacket uttered a prolonged whistle.
"There!" cried Mr. Rushton—"you are incredulous, like everybody!"
"Yes, I am!"
"You doubt my ability to capture him?"
"Precisely."
"Well, sir! we'll see. I have never yet given up what I have once undertaken. Smile as you please, you moon-struck poet; and if you want an incident to put in your trashy law-epic, new nib your pen to introduce a wild Indian. Stop! I'm tired talking! Don't answer me. If any one calls, say I'm gone away, or dead, or anything. Get that old desk ready for the Indian. He will be here on Monday."