No sooner had Dick picked up his rifle than he realized that he could not possibly escape the second half-breed and the sailor who stood by the fireplace. The odds were against him. The sailor had covered him with an ugly-looking automatic, while the breed’s rifle was held at a threatening angle. He put down his gun as quickly as he could, deciding to face the situation squarely. Reaction from his first spasm of fear had left him calm and cool, his mind on the alert.
“You showed a lot of good sense there,” approved the sailor. “We sure would o’ drilled you, Buddy, if you’d made another move. Looks as if you’d done about enough damage now.”
Dick turned his head and looked again at the crumpled form of the girl’s assailant.
“I’m sorry this had to happen. I guess he’ll recover.”
“Playing the hero stuff, eh?” leered the sailor. “She ought to feel pretty proud o’ your work. I must say you made a good job o’ it.”
Dick flushed, but did not reply. He was watching the half-breed, who had advanced upon the old Indian and had demanded a rope with which to bind his prisoner. He saw the old man shake his head. The watery old eyes, set in the curious net-work of wrinkles, roved fearfully from face to face. Would the outlaw please believe him? He spoke the truth. God was his witness.
The half-breed considered the problem for a short space, his crafty gaze darting here and there around the room. In spite of his host’s assertion to the contrary, he was sure that the old man was not telling the truth. He walked into the kitchen and came back, shaking his head. He scrambled up to the loft, where Dick heard him prowling around, muttering to himself. He reappeared, at length, carrying a thick woolen blanket, which he had taken from the girl’s bed. Producing a hunting knife, he cut this into strips about two inches wide, and in a short time had Dick bound as securely as if he had used moosehide thongs or manilla rope.
“Kind o’ hard on you, ain’t it, Buddy,” sympathised the sailor. “If it was me now, running this show, I’d let you go free. ’Cause we ain’t got no particular quarrel with you. But his nibs here seems to think that you require special attention.”
Dick and the sailor kept up a desultory conversation for the next two or three hours, the sailor doing most of the talking. He bitterly regretted the circumstances that had brought him here. He spoke contemptuously of his two companions. They were not his sort. He liked neither of them. During the day he had suffered from cold and exposure and had undergone a terrible agony caused by blistered feet. This was no country for a white man.