“If you will come with us, Tawanish, I will give you back your gun. Then you can start at once.”
They filed from the room. Outside Dick dismissed the guard, then led the way to his own billet, where he had left his captive’s rifle. Extracting the cartridges, he handed it over to Tawanish.
“Go,” said Dick, “and give your chief and your people my message.”
The Indian’s departure was sudden and abrupt. He streaked for the door. Father Michaud touched Dick’s arm.
“I hope,” he declared, “zat you have not made a serious meestake, monsieur. Do you think zey will heed your request?”
Dick sat down on the edge of his bunk, under the accusing gaze of his two chums.
“I don’t know,” he answered. “There’s a chance.”
The pent up rage and anger, which had been seething within Sandy’s breast, suddenly broke forth.
“You fool! You fool! Of all the unthinking, crazy actions I’ve ever witnessed, this is the worst. Do you realize what you’ve done? Do you know what will happen now? Wouldn’t listen to me, would you? Nor Toma? Nor Father Michaud? You—you——”
Sandy’s tirade ended in a choking and sputtering wholly unintelligible.