“That’s not the reason. So are you.”
“Nein, me, I a Wyandotte brave; ain’t so.”
“I never wronged you.”
“Louis my brother vas und you come. You tell him Conrad not goot brother, alretty.”
“That’s false. I never said a word against you. Some one has been lying to you.”
“Maman heard you, yet.”
“She heard nothing of the kind. She wants me killed for some reason, and is trying to have you murder me, kill me from behind like a coward.”
“Red man’s vay for me goot enough.”
“Well, it’s not good enough for me. ’Twould have been an Indian’s way, I suppose, to have let you go down out of sight in the mud. If I’d had the slightest enmity to you that would have been my chance after you tried to murder me, you blockhead! I’ve a good mind to give you a thrashing. Maman and Caughnega have been making a catspaw of you to do their dirty work. If you had a spoonful of sense you’d 99 know, now anyway, that I have nothing against you. If you are jealous of me, help me to go back to Virginia out of the way. Don’t try to strike me down from behind.”
Conrad hung his head. He had not lost his sense of shame altogether, and, noticing his embarrassment, Rodney, prompted by an impulse he could not have explained, held out his hand, saying, “Let’s shake hands and be friends, to each other and to Louis. He’ll need us both.” Conrad met the offer and they returned to the village, no word being spoken on the way.