while the conversation was going on between the tory and gray panther, gravity gimp was rubbing and nursing his "game leg," with many sighs and groans, which he took care should be heard by those around him, while at the same time it did not annoy them.
"sprained it, i s'pose," remarked golcher, deeming it best to keep back his intentions toward the negro until after he should have extracted all the information he could.
"wuss dan a strain," said gravity, looking ruefully down at the limb and rubbing it with one hand.
"how can it be worse than a strain?"
"it's busted."
"you talk like a fool—what do you mean by bustin' a leg?"
"i mean dat it ain't no use any more—ain't wuth nuffin to dance de double shuffle wid."
"how did you hurt it?"
"got struck by a cannon-ball dis arternoon—but i recovered from dat slight inconwenience, and i strained and broke it in two or three places a little while ago."
"how?"
"in flingin' injins ober de rocks, i wrenched it."
the explanation was not very clear to golcher, but he was satisfied the limb was badly sprained, and he cared nothing further. it rendered what might have been a dangerous prisoner comparatively harmless, which was a good thing while the main party of indians were away, engaged in entrapping the fugitives, whose possession was so much more valuable.
"all you folks got into the cavern, down among the rocks over there, thinkin' you was safe, didn't you?"
"we crept in dar not 'cause we thought it war safe, but 'cause it war the bestest thing we could do."
"do you know anything about fred godfrey?"
"yes; he hab de honor ob my 'quaintance."
"that isn't what i mean: do you know where he is?"
"i tink he am ober on de oder side ob de riber slewing injins and tories."
it will be recollected that gravity left the cavern before the lieutenant put in his appearance, and the african therefore knew nothing of his presence with his friends.
"wal," growled golcher, finding it hard to repress the anger that was gnawing at his heart; "the trouble to-day has been that too many of the rebels got slewed themselves; if it hadn't been for that, things would have gone different; but that godfrey will be with the party up in the rocks afore long."
"guess you're 'bout right, massa golcher."
"do you know," suddenly asked golcher turning on the negro, "that we're going to have every one of that party afore daylight?"
"no, i didn't know it; did you?"
"they'll be here inside of two hours, and then there'll be fun."
"reckons dere'll be a little fun afore you cotches 'em."
"they're in the rocks, but we can rout them out whenever we want to; they think we don't know what they're doing, but gray panther hasn't missed anything."
"i noticed that massa brainerd didn't miss either, when he plugged dem injuns dat was trying to sneak in behind the rocks."
"see here," exclaimed golcher, turning upon him; "you'd better keep a civil tongue in your head."
"dat's all right—i was jes' joking wid you—but, if you hain't any 'bjection, massa golcher, i'd like to know what yer gwine to do wid me? am yer gwine ter take me up in york state and put me to work on a farm?"
"if you live a couple of hours longer, you'll be put through the sprouts."
"put frough de sprouts," repeated gimp, as if to himself; "wonder what dat means."
while this conversation was going on, the indian who was keeping guard was seated on the other side the fire in a lounging attitude, and his head now and then bobbed down on his breast in a way that showed he was partly asleep.
gravity gimp did not appear to notice him, but he saw every movement, and, without appearing to do so, hitched a little closer to the tory.
the latter seemed to conclude that nothing more was to be gained from the negro, and he ceased asking him questions.
the servant groaned and rubbed his leg with every appearance of great pain.
"massa golcher," said he, with a groan, "i'd be much obliged to yer, if you'll jes pull off my shoe and rub dat ankle for half an hour."
and as he made this astounding request he moved still nearer, and thrust his enormous shoe almost in the face of the renegade, who turned savagely upon him.
"i'll teach yer manners, you black—"
he rose to his feet and whipped out his knife as he spoke, but gimp also came to the standing position, and he was a little quicker than the tory. golcher had drawn his weapon, but before he suspected the design of his assailant, gimp lowered his head and ran like a steam-engine straight at him.
the iron-like skull struck golcher "'midships" and knocked him over backwards, his heels going up in the air, while he described an almost complete somersault, with the breath gone from his body.
the drowsy seneca roused up just in time to witness the performance, and to see the same battering-ram charging down upon him.
he turned to leap aside until he could draw his tomahawk, but he was a second too late, and the projectile took him in the pit of the stomach, and banged him against a neighboring tree with such violence that the breath left his body also, and there is reason to believe it never returned.
