“You see if Toma not speak the truth,” he said doggedly.
“What I want to know,” Sandy taunted him, “is if a change in the weather wouldn’t make you feel better. Perhaps a little rain would freshen your mind, Toma. This everlasting sunlight is getting the better of you.”
“If the outlaws have really been following us,” inquired Dick, scowling darkly at Sandy, “why haven’t we heard from them before? Why haven’t we been attacked? If what you say is true, Toma, Henderson has decided to be a good man instead of the rascal we have always known.”
“Henderson him bad, but very smart fellow,” said the guide. “He shoot you, me, Sandy, in one minute if he like. But he no like because if he shoot us he mebbe lose mine.”
“You mean——”
“Much more easy, much better for him to follow along ’till we find mine ourselves. Then he take it away from us. More sense do thing like that than kill you, me, Sandy, when not know for sure if we have map.”
Sandy’s smile suddenly faded away.
“By George, you’re right! Toma, I’ll take back everything I just said—with some interest added.”
“Then, according to your belief,” said Dick, “we have nothing to fear until we have located the mine?”
“No. Only men with arrows bother us now. Me pretty sure Henderson keep out of sight. He no want us suspect anything when he get ready take mine.”