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I didn't git it all straight, I reckon, but accordin' ter the deal handed me thar wus two dead men mixed up in the affair Beaucaire, an' a young army offercer. Seems ter me his name wus Knox." "I didn't hear that." "Well, enyhow, that's the way Bill told it.
He stood silent, little more than a shadow before me, his head bent, as though struggling with a new thought, a fresh understanding. "I reckon I kin see thet, sir, now." His voice somehow contained a new note of respect, as though the truth had suddenly dawned upon him, "I didn't just get hold o' things rightly afore; why an army offercer like yer should be mixed up in this sorter job.
"De docthar he foun' dat out, sah. I reckon' he thought maybe he ought ter know; fearin' as how ye might die. He done looked through yer pockets, sah, an' he took two papers whut he foun' dar away wid him. He done tol' me as how yer wus an offercer in de army a leftenant, er sumthin' an' thet dem papers ought fer ter be sint ter de Gov'ner et onct.
What I want to know is, are you ready to help me fight the fellow? block his game?" "How? What do ye want done?" "Give me a pledge first, and I'll tell you." He took a long moment to decide, not yet wholly satisfied as to my identity. "Did ye say ye wus an army offercer?" "Yes, a lieutenant; my name is Knox." "I never know'd yer." "Probably not, but Joe Kirby does.
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