“Hey, you, let go of that pony!” he exclaimed, coming out from the shelter of the alders.
The Indian started and turned, and his two companions did the same. For a minute they were considerably startled, for “red coats” (mounted police) occasionally rode through that part of the country.
But when they saw that it was only a boy who faced them, they quickly recovered their composure.
“Hullo, white boy,” said the one that appeared to be the leader, speaking a dialect that cannot be reproduced on paper. “Hullo, white boy, what you want, eh?”
“I want you to leave those ponies alone,” spoke back Ralph boldly, “they belong to me and my partner.”
“That so, eh? Well, we take them ’long small piece, savee?”
The rascal coolly bent over the rope and went on unfastening it. Ralph was, for a minute, at a loss what to do. Then he bethought himself of Jim in the cave.
“Jim! oh, Jim!” he cried shrilly.
“Hullo,” came a hearty voice in reply, “what’s up?”