“The very wust thing you could do! ’Cause why. Ef he is a runnygade, thet is jest what he’d choose hisself, an’ then he’d hold high, low, jack in his hand, ’th a fa’r show o’ ketchin’ the game, to boot. No, sir! You must keep him, an’ say nothin’ to make him ’spicious, an’ then—watch ’im. You’ll watch—the young feller, he’ll watch, an’ I’ll watch, an’ it’s hard but what we kin manidge to keep him in trim.”
“’S—st!” cautioned Ayres, rising erect, with hand upon his ready revolver. “So, Mr. Dusky Dick, this is a specimen of your manners, is it? Eavesdropping!” he added, as the form of the guide stepped out from behind the tree beneath which the party were sitting.
“Should the criminal be absent when he is being tried?” sneered Rouzee, with a slight emphasis on the word italicized. “I was passing by—I heard my name coupled with treachery—and so I paused.”
“Jest so—I was hungry—I saw a fat goose—I stole it, said the fox!” murmured Tom, carelessly hitching his belt around. “I told you he was a snake!”
“And what did you hear?” demanded Calhoun, arising.
“I heard myself accused of treachery—of being a renegade, and in collusion with the Indians. If not in so many words, at least plainly enough to be understood,” said Dusky Dick, deliberately.
“Well then—what is your answer?”
“What can it be! You are dissatisfied with me, and condemn me unheard. I will not serve any man who does not trust me fully. Tom Maxwell, yonder, knows the route quite as well as I do, and is capable of acting alone. I will bid you good-by, now.”
“You mean to leave us?”
“Yes.”