“You look it!” Dick growled at him.
Dick felt that he should have been sorry for the unhappy Frenchman, but for various reasons he could not. Sympathy would have been wasted upon him. To a certain extent both Henderson and this cringing outlaw deserved the fate that most assuredly awaited them.
The chief’s son nudged his arm and they had turned away, when Baptiste again broke forth:
“Where ees ze rope?”
“What rope?”
“Why are you not bound, monsieur?”
“They took the rope off,” answered Dick noncommittally.
“An’ your two friends—are zey too without ze rope?”
“I haven’t seen either one of them since the attack. I think they are dead,” Dick choked.
“Et ees not so, monsieur. With my own eyes I see them both. Zey come along on ze same pack-train. Ze leetle fellow cry most ze way like beeg baby. Somewhere, I tell you, zey are here.”