"Ugh! Big Chief a dirty cutthroat," retorted Jesse.
"Huh!" said Great Bear.
"I can lick you with one arm tied behind my back, old pizen snake," leered the desperado. "Let me up and I'll show you."
Great Bear rose, and stepping to the door gave a terse, guttural command to some one without. Returning to the wigwam, he squatted down at the great bandit's feet again and resumed his intent gaze into the other's face.
"Well," questioned Jesse, "Am I so purty that you can't keep your eyes off'n me? Think you'll know me when you see me again? I'd know you among a million with that face. I certainly did lam it to you, didn't I? I ought to have killed you when I had the chance up the tree there, but I hated to take an unfair advantage, even of such an old murderer as you are."
While the outlaw was now suffering terrible tortures from his strained position, he gave no sign to the waiting Indian chief.
A silent-footed savage appeared in the doorway, placing before the chief an earthen jar from which a thin curl of smoke ascended.
But even then Jesse did not catch the full significance of the chief's intentions.
From the receptacle the Indian removed a short iron rod. It's end was at white heat.