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“You’ve decoyed me—trapped me here with a mess of lies,” flung back Captain Jack, angrily. “What’s your game?” “Dis am a free lodgin’ house—ho, ho, ho!” chuckled the late guide. “Ah’s gwine gib yo’ er place to sleep fo’ de night. Yo’ sho’ly must feel ’bleeged to me—ho, ho, ho!” “You lied to me about Sam Truax!” “Yeah!
“I’ll be hanged if I’ll put on such duds!” quivered Jack. “Jes’ as yo’ please, ob co’se, Marse Benson,” came the answer, from above. “But, ef yo’ don’ put dem t’ings on, yo’ll sho’ly hab ter gwine back ter ’Napolis in yo’ undahclo’s. An’ yo’s gwine back right away, too, so, ef yo’ wants ter gwine back weahin’ ernuff clo’es—” “Oh, well, then—!” ground out the submarine boy, savagely enough.
Ah done foun’ dat was de name ob a gemmun in yo’ pahty dat wasn’t wid yo’. Truax do as well as any odder name—yah! Now, Ah’s gwine leab yo’ heah t’ git a sleep. Ah’ll toss down some blankets. ’Pose yo’se’f and gwine ter sleep, honey. Don’t try to clim’ up outer dat, or dem dawgs’ll sho’ly jump down at yo’. Keep quiet, an’ go ter sleep, an’ de dawgs done lay heah an’ jest watch.
But don’ try nuffin’ funny, or de dawgs’ll sho’ly bring trubble to yo’. Dem is trained dawgs—train’ fo’ dis business ob mine. Ho, ho, ho!” Mulatto and light vanished, but enraged, baffled, helpless Captain Jack could hear the two dogs moving about ere they settled down on the shelf of flooring overhead.
The scornful clerk introduced Mary as a young lady inquiring about some place in the bad-lands. Off came the sombrero with a sweep, and Lone Tooth smiled in a way that accented the dental solitaire to which he owed his name. Miss Carmichael, concealing her terror of this casual cavalier, inquired if he could tell her the distance to Lost Trail. "I sho’ly can, and with, consid’able pleasure."
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