“You greasy scoundrel! You thought to make a treaty with me and force me to give you firearms, did you? Why, I’ve a mind to annihilate the whole tribe of you!”
The Esquimau flashed a leering, contemptuous glance at Frank and replied:
“White man mebbe fly in air; but Eskimo man no ’fraid ob him.”
CHAPTER XIII.
THE END.
Frank was amazed at the cool nerve and effrontery of the wretch. For a moment the young inventor was silent.
Then he said:
“You have one of our men in captivity here. I want him.”
The chief shook his head sullenly.
“What?”
“Mebbe no.”