Scalp me and skin me and put me
under a stone-pile for revenge! Will it make your revenge any sweeter
to torture a helpless, white woman?"

Louis winced. 'Twas the first sign of goodness I had seen in the knave,
and I credited it wholly to his French ancestors.

"I never torture white woman," he vehemently declared, with a sudden
flare-up of his proud temper. "The son of a seigneur----"

"The son of a seigneur," I broke in, "let an innocent woman go into
captivity by lying to me!"

"Don't harp on that!" said Louis with a scornful laugh--a laugh that is
ever the refuge of the cornered liar. "You pay me back by stealing
despatches."

"Don't harp on that, Louis!" and I returned his insolence in full
measure. "I didn't steal your despatches, though I know the thief. And
you paid me back by almost trapping me at Fort Douglas."

"But I didn't succeed," exclaimed Laplante. "Mon Dieu! If I had only
known you were a spy!"

"I wasn't. I came to see Hamilton."

"And you pay me back as if I had succeed," continued Louis, "by kicking
me--me--the son of a seigneur--kicking me in the stomach like a pig,
which is no fit treatment for a gentleman!"

"And you paid me back by sticking your knife in my boot----"

"And didn't succeed," broke in Louis regretfully.

At that, we both laughed in spite of ourselves, laughed as comrades.
And the laugh brought back memories of old Laval days, when we used to
thrash each other in the schoolyard, but always united in defensive
league, when we were disciplined inside the class-room.

"See here, old crony," I cried, taking quick advantage of his sudden
softening and again playing suppliant to my adversary. "I own up! You
owe me two scores, one for the despatches I saw taken from you, one for
knocking you down in Fort Douglas; for your knife broke and did not cut
me a whit. Pay those scores with compound interest, if you like, the way
you used to pummel me black and blue at Laval; but help me now as we
used to help each other out of scrapes at school! Afterwards, do as you
wish! I give you full leave. As the son of a seigneur, as a gentleman,
Louis, help me to free the woman!"

"Pah!" cried Louis with mingled contempt and surrender. "I not punish
you here with two thousand against one! Louis Laplante is a
gentleman--even to his enemy!"

"Bravo, comrade!" I shouted out, full of gratitude, and I thrust forward
my hand.

"No--no--thanks much," and Laplante drew himself up proudly, "not