“I meant some time to pay you for him; indeed I did. I knew that if I got to the mines I would soon be in a position to pay all my debts, and I should have regarded that as a debt of honor.”
“The less you say about honor the better, it strikes me, Mr. Silverthorn.”
“Please release me! I have been in this unhappy confinement for more than an hour.”
Tom approached the tree and, drawing out a formidable looking jack-knife, sundered the cords that bound the captive, and he stepped forth, stretching himself with a sigh of relief.
“Permit me to express my thanks, my friend and benefactor!” he cried, sinking on his knees and grasping Tom’s hand, which he pressed to his lips.
Tom pulled it away with a look of disgust.
“I have no confidence in you,” he said. “I know how you treat your friends and benefactors.”
“I have indeed done wrong,” said Dionysius. “I am a weak, fallible man, but I never will wrong you again.”
“I don’t think you will, for I shall not give you a chance. Now tell me the truth about the horse. How did he escape from you?”
“I got off his back a moment, and he immediately turned and galloped away.”