"It is Dusky Dick," muttered Tobe Castor.
"What can he want? Shall I answer him?"
"Yas—but don't show yourself. 'Twon't do no harm to hear what the cuss hes to say, as I knows on," slowly returned the scout.
"Hallo yourself! What is it you want with me, Dusky Dick?"
"I want to have a quiet talk with you, and see if we can't come to some sort o' tarms. Will I be safe if I come out thar? It's too fur away to talk from here."
"Tell him yas—ef he comes alone," said Tobe, in reply to the glance of Wilson.
"Yes. Come out, and if you act on the square, you sha'n't be hurt. But come alone, and mind you don't let any of your red-skinned devils try to crawl up on us, or you're a dead man. We can see all over from here."
After a few moment's silence, the renegade arose from behind his covert, and strode toward the cave-entrance. Although he bore weapons, they were held carelessly, as if not for use.
"Hold on thar, Mister Dusky Dick," called forth the old scout when the renegade was within a score yards. "Don't come no nearer. You hain't got the consumption, an' ken talk that fur, I reckon."
"Tobe Castor!" exclaimed Morgan, in a tone of uneasiness.