“You’ve won, Dick. Dr. Brady says that you were absolutely wonderful. The way you sat on your horse, the way you ordered that crowd of natives about—your calmness, your courage. You were every inch a policeman!”
Dick laughed.
“I wonder what Dr. Brady would say if he knew the truth. I wonder what he would say if he knew that I was quaking inside like a jelly-fish. It is true that I sat on my horse, but the credit is due the horse, not me. If he had moved as much as one front leg, he’d have shaken me out of the saddle. Our cause would have been lost.”
“Come! Come! You’re fooling, Dick.”
“Not at all. I was never more frightened in my life, and I never want to be as badly frightened again. I was trembling like a leaf. When the chief brought out Father Bleriot and Dr. Brady and turned them over to us, I very nearly collapsed.”
“But the Indians were frightened too. They were afraid of you.”
“Perhaps they were. Everyone was more or less frightened, I guess, except Toma. Cool! Honestly I think he enjoyed it. He egged me on, encouraged me. I never would have had the nerve to enter that village if it hadn’t been for him. There’s a young man, Sandy, who was born without fear. He doesn’t know what it means.”
Sandy rose and threw another log on the fire. Then he rubbed the palms of his hands together and grinned.
“Well, I’ll grant that. He doesn’t. He loves action and excitement. He eats it. I suppose he’s off somewhere now, worrying because we haven’t much left here to do.”
“I know where he is,” laughed Dick. “He went back to the Indian village with Dr. Brady. Brady is finishing his work there this afternoon. Toma is his interpreter.”