The iron was pushed close to Dick’s naked breast. He could feel the heat of it already searing his skin.
Then the door opened and the half-breed hesitated. Govereau turned, snarling at the interruption. An Indian stood in the door.
“Men all go way,” said the intruder. “They drink firewater. M’sieu Govereau, you come bring them back.”
“Throw him back in. We finish wiz him tonight,” Govereau ordered the half-breed. “Bring zee young white one. I come soon,” he waved away the Indian at the door.
Dick reeled into Sandy’s arms a minute later as he was roughly pushed into the back room. “He’ll call you next, Sandy,” Dick gasped a little weakly. “If he asks you why you feared his men, say you thought they were bandits.”
Sandy pressed Dick’s arm to signify he understood and followed the rat-faced half-breed out into the front room. Dick and Toma waited only a few minutes before the door opened and Sandy was pushed in once more. Govereau had not attempted to torture Sandy. He seemed in a hurry to go after his men. They could hear him cursing through even those thick, log walls, for Sandy’s story had tallied with Dick’s.
It was Toma’s turn next, and Dick talked earnestly with the guide as to the method he was to use in convincing Govereau of his desires to be a traitor to his white friends. Dick was now certain that Govereau would not believe their story. Toma was their last chance.
They waited for some time before Toma was called. Then the half-breed came again, and beckoned to the guide. In high suspense Dick and Sandy watched him disappear through the door.
In a half hour they took courage. Toma had not come back. They waited an hour and still Toma was not thrown back among them. Their spirits rose. Toma had then convinced Govereau of his sincerity.
It was growing dark now, and at any moment Dick expected Govereau to call for him again. The Frenchman seemed to have a personal enmity for Dick, perhaps because of the young man’s refusal to be cowed by browbeating.