“Certainly; but what way is there?”
“I’ve been thinking I’d force the chief to do my will by holding a knife to his breast.”
“And stab him?”
“If he wouldn’t give in, yes.”
“Good powers above! you’re mad,” he cried, shocked.
“I assure you I’ll try it.”
“It’s—it’s—” Sam checked himself, his surprised and anxious face taking on another expression, until at last he said: “I don’t know as it’s such a bad idea, after all. Nothing but force would make Tangua yield, and with a knife at his breast he might—Well, actually, a greenhorn can have a small, so-called idea once in a while.”
“The first thing is to get the chief away from his braves. Where is he now?”
“Over there with them.”
“Will you get him off, Sam? Tell him I want to speak to him and can’t leave my work.”