Then, with a word of explanation, parted from Cris, and proceeded to
find Nelatu.
As soon as he was out of sight, Carrol's behaviour would have furnished
a comic artist a capital subject for a sketch. He chuckled, winked his
eyes, wagged his head, rubbed his hands, and seemed to shake all over
with suppressed merriment.
"A pair of the artfullest cusses I ever comed across. Darn my pictur if
the young 'un ain't most too good. War I goin' by the swamp, 'cos then
I might do him a service? No, no, Mister Warren, this coon ain't to be
made a cat's paw of by you nor your father neyther. I ain't a goin' to
mix myself up in either of your scrapes, leastways, not if I knows it;
nor Nelatu shan't if I can help it. I don't let him stir till his
fellow Injuns come, and, may-be, that'll keep him out o' trouble. No,
Master Warren, you must do yur own dirty work, and so must your father.
Cris Carrol shan't help either o' you in that. If the young 'un don't
mind what he's heard, altho' he made b'lieve he didn't, and his father
don't mind what I told him, there'll be worse come of it."