“Who are you?”
“A friendless American boy who has been hunted down like a dog because--”
“Fret Offut!” broke in Jack recognizing the other’s voice.
“Jack North!” gasped the fugitive “You have betrayed me, Jack!”
“Not a bit of that. I am here on account of you.”
That was no time to question one’s motives. Jack knew that the other was his mortal enemy, but just then and there he could do no better than to forget the past. Whatever the offense he had committed against the Chilians, Fret was scarcely in worse color with them than himself.
It did not occur to honest Jack North that by delivering up his enemy he might save his own life.
Though Fret had abused his confidence shamefully, he did not have the wish to give him over to these foreign pursuers. For aught he knew his companion might be as guilty of crime against them as against himself.
Meanwhile why had the Chilians not entered the cell in pursuit of their prisoner? Were they in fear of him? Not so much that as they were in fear of entering that underground retreat, teeming with superstitious traditions.
In fact no Chilian could have been induced to enter there under any provocation short of death!