Lieutenant: But go on; you said they didn't kill the worthless cur?
Private: "Worthless cur!" Well, I guess not! the Captain heard the men and dashing in among them, he laid his hand on the Indian's shoulder, and he just roared: "The first man that touches him dies!" O, boys, you'd orter been there. (Goes up.)
Sergeant: Come back and tell the rest; what happened then?
Private (comes down): Someone sung out, "O, you're a coward, afraid of an old Indian. Let us have him!" Whew! You'd orter seen him then. I never see the Captain so mad. "Who says I'm a coward?" he roared, rolling up his sleeves.
Lieutenant: Well, did they fight him? (Laughs.)
Private: Guess not—didn't want to tackle that job. So the Captain after a minute or two took the old Indian by the arm and led him off to feed.
Sergeant: That was just like the Captain, but it may be the old fellow is a spy after all.
Lieutenant: Well, I guess that's the only Indian that we are likely to see and it's too bad of the Captain to spoil the boys' fun. O, here comes the noble red man now. (Gerolomo enters at right, comes down slowly and timidly.)
Lieutenant: Hullo, there, you redskin! What's your name? (Goes to him.)
Indian: Gerolomo. Me heap good Injun; heap like paleface, bring paleface heap meat. (Shows gun and continues to move on slowly across stage.)