“We could not abandon Bry and Nux, though,” I continued, more seriously, “so there is nothing to regret.”
Bry seemed very thoughtful.
“We in bad box, Mars’ Sam,” he said in his broken English, which contrasted so strongly with the ease with which he expressed himself in his own tongue; “dat king is old fox, sure ’nough, an’ won’t let us go ’way from here to get de di’monds.”
“He seemed to treat you and Nux very politely, I thought.”
“All seem, Mars’ Sam; no be.”
“But isn’t he friendly? Didn’t he break bread with you?”
“Dat don’t ’mount to nuffin, seh. If a friend lie to him, he frien’ship is broke.”
“Well, Bry; what then?”
“He know I lie to him.”