Quick as a flash, just as the words came from his lips, Young Glory drew his six-shooter from his belt, and held it at the man's head.
"Ha! Ha!" laughed Young Glory, "you change color. You see I was right. Don't you think so?"
"What's your game?" asked the man, sullenly. "I've done you no harm, never seen you in my life before, so you can't want to kill me. And as for robbing me, well, try it. If you get enough to buy yourself a drink I'll be surprised."
"Get into the house," said Young Glory. "Back with you. Hi! Hi!"
The last two cries were meant for Dan, who heard them, and was in time to see Young Glory entering the hut. Dan noticed that his comrade had signed to him, and he immediately ran towards the place.
In a moment he was in the hut.
"A friend of mine, Dan Daly," said Young Glory.
"The top of the mornin' to ye, senor," cried Dan, taking off his cap, gravely. "It's meself's plased to meet you."
"You're an American?"
"Yes."