"No man is my equal who creeps to my tent at the dead of night. Do you know what the camp will think, O'Eeilly?"
"And what will they think?"
"That you came to rob me."
"Then they'll think a lie!" said O'Reilly, startled, for he knew that on such a charge he would be liable to be suspended to the nearest tree.
"If they chose to think so, it would be bad for you."
"You know it isn't so Dick Dewey," said O'Reilly.
"I consider your intention quite as bad. You wanted to prevent this poor Chinaman from ever returning to his native land, though he had never injured you in any way. You can't deny it."
"I don't belave a word of all that rigmarole, Dick Dewey."
"It makes little difference whether you believe it or not. You have shown a disposition to injure and annoy Ki Sing, but I have foiled you. And now," here Dewey's tone became deep and stern, "give me that knife directly, and go back to your tent, or I'll rouse the camp, and they may form their own conclusions as to what brought you here."
O'Reilly felt that Dewey was in earnest, and that he must yield. He did so with a bad grace enough and slunk back to his tent, which he did not leave till morning.