He spoke in Mexican Spanish, but Murray understood him, and so did the miners.
"Hear him, Bill! He knows them two fellers. That's why they ain't afraid to prospect away down here."
He had made a bit of a mistake, but Murray answered, short and sharp,
"Young brave take friend's advice. Jump on horse. Take young squaws back to camp. Tell chief to ride hard. Kill pony. Get away fast."
"Who shall I tell him you are?"
"Say you don't know. Tell him I'm an enemy. Killed you. Killed young squaws. Going to kill him."
There was a sort of grim humor in Murray's face as he said that. Not only Red Wolf, but the two girls, understood it, and the latter would have given a good deal to be able to tell the "white head," as they called him, and his handsome young friend, how thankful they both were.
Steve had not said a word, but he was narrowly watching the three miners for any signs of an effort to get loose. He and Murray might have been able to upset the two unwounded men in a fair fight, but it was just as likely to be the other way.
"It's that other one, Steve. He's watching his chance. That's it. Draw it hard. Now he won't be cutting any capers."
The expression of the miner's eyes promised the unfriendliest kind of "capers" if he should ever get an opportunity to cut them.