“Arm hurt p’raps, for he ran away on his legs.”
“Mebbe he’s gone to ’Reesa!”
“Must watch for that.”
“We will. I just want to get my finger on his throat once, for I believe the devil knows who we are, and if I can clutch his windpipe, he’ll never trouble any more sleepers that’s—”
Cohoon caught the scout’s arm, and dropped the torch behind him.
“Look, Kit.”
As he spoke the Indian drew the scout aside, and a torch greeted the latter’s eyes.
“’Reesa’s yonder, Cohoon.”
“Mebbe so.”
“I know it, come!”