“Well, sir, your plan?” queried the officer.
“Why, it came to me when I saw old Oak Heart mixed up with that blessed old white horse, you know. That old fellow is an ancient friend of mine. I recognized him at once. And he never did love an Injun. I wonder how Oak Heart managed to ride him at all.”
“The horse, you mean?”
“Sure. Well, as for the chief, we have him; but we never can make terms with his tribe for his release.”
“You think not?”
“I know so. The chief is a true Sioux. He would never allow his people to make terms for his life. You could hack him to pieces on that scaffolding yonder, where all the reds could see, and it would not change the attitude of the crew a mite, excepting to make them more bloodthirsty.”
“Yes?”
“So we can’t make terms with him.”
“What do you advise, then?”
“That you have a talk with Oak Heart. He understands English very well, and what he doesn’t understand I’ll interpret for him.”