"Yes, but look at the money," I said.
"What do I want to look at it for?" he said; "it ought to be hung out on the clothesline from all I've heard," he said.
Oh, boy, I was glad to hear him say that. "I wouldn't let any fellow in this camp except you call me 'kid,'" that's what I told him.
He just rowed around a little while, making dandy feather strokes, and then he said,
"Mr. Ellsworth didn't send that money over to Daniel Boone and Buffalo
Bill yet, did he?"
I said, "You mean the gold dust twins? No, I don't think he did."
He said, "Well then, we've got to fix that and We can't ask Mr. E. not to do it The tide's against us, kid; nobody's going to listen to us—not yet."
Then all of a sudden he sat up, got his oars set right, and oh, bibbie, you should have seen that fellow row. Every stroke he took he almost lay down flat, and oh, Christmas, couldn't he feather! Pretty soon we were over near the shore where the campers were. You could see their tent in among the trees.
"You're not going to tell them, are you?" I said.
But he didn't answer me, only just called out, "Hey, there, you wild
Indians!"