I was in the Seminole war, in this State, and was fightin' Injuns from the beginnin' to the end of it.

And I know all about how to treat the rascals.

You must hang 'em, or shoot 'em, as soon as you get hold of 'em." This aroused all the old sympathy for the oppressed red man that dwelt in the heart of young Rectus, and he exclaimed: "That would be murder! There are always two kinds of every sort of people--all are not bad.

It is wrong to condemn a whole division of the human race that way." "You're right about there bein' two kinds of Injuns," said the old fellow.

"There's bad ones and there's wuss ones.