The Indian did not require aid, for before either of the boys could have
interfered, he was uppermost, clutching Jim Albert by the throat so
vigorously that the latter's tongue was protruding from his mouth.
"Don't kill him! Don't kill him! " Walter shouted.
"Not yet; big rascal!" Sewatis muttered, as he deftly tied his blanket
around the upper portion of the prisoner's body in such a manner that the
intruder was helpless to do anything save kick, and that was not a
pleasant form of exercise, as he soon learned, for the fire was so near
that at the first attempt his toes were buried among the glowing coals.
After that painful experience the prisoner remained quiet, and in a few
seconds Sewatis had him trussed hand and foot, like a chicken ready for
roasting.
"Me fix him! heap big rascal!" the captor exclaimed, lying down once more
as unconcernedly as if nothing out of the usual course of events had
transpired.
"What do you suppose this fellow came here for?" Stephen asked, as if
unable to surmise the reason for Jim Albert's presence.
"He is in the pay of Sam Haines, and tracked you, most likely, in order to
discover my hiding-place,"
"If that had been the case he would have been in Portsmouth again by this
time."
A sudden thought came to Walter, and bending over the prisoner quickly, he
searched under his greasy belt.
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