“Certainly,” said Hale. “I am through with you, much obliged to you, and am pleased to hand you each a ten spot.”
And the ceremony was performed to the satisfaction of all.
“Good-bye, and take good care of that great boy,” said Max, smiling upon Frank as he leaped into the saddle. “I expect to hear great things of him yet.”
“I’ll look out for him,” said Hale, and then the tall guide waved his hand and rode off at the head of his men, looking like some great proud king of the plains in his strong beauty.
“I think you boy what let poor Indian go when you catch him,” said a voice at Frank Reade’s side.
He turned and looked keenly at the sole Indian, taken with the gang of white counterfeiters.
He recognized him as the red-skin that had been caught and held by his wonderful electric guard when camping two nights before in the grove with the prospecting party.
“Yes,” he said. “I am the boy.”
“Then Indian pay you,” said the copper-colored confederate of the counterfeiters. “You give red man his life.”