"What is he, Jack?" he asked again, turning towards me, as though I had been some new kind of bird.
"Don't know," replied Mount; "not worth the plucking, anyhow. Take his wampum belts, all the same," he added, with a terrific yawn.
"If you are a patriot," I said, desperately, "you will leave me my belts and meddle only with your own affairs."
Both men turned and looked at me curiously.
"You are no patriot," said Mount, after a silence.
"Why not?" I persisted.
"Ay—ay—why and why not?" yawned Mount. "I don't know, if you won't tell. The devil take you, for aught I care! But you won't get your belts," he added, slyly, watching me askance to note the effect of his words.
"Why not?" I repeated, choking down my despair.
"Because you'll talk with your belts to some of these damned Indians hereabouts," he grinned, "and I want to know what you've got to say to them first."
"I tell you that my belts mean no harm to patriots!" I repeated, firmly. "You say I am no patriot. I deny it; I am a better patriot than you, or I should not be in this forest to-day!"