"
Peppajee grunted, stopped in the path two paces from the porch,
folded his arms inside his blanket, and stood so while his eyes
traveled slowly and keenly around the group lounging at ease
above him. Upon the bulky figure of Baumberger they dwelt
longest, and while he looked his face hardened until nothing
seemed alive but his eyes.
"Peppajee, this my friend, Mr. Baumberger. You heap sabe
Baumberger--come all time from Shoshone, mebbyso catchum heap
many fish." Peaceful's mild, blue eyes twinkled over his old
meerschaum. He knew the ways of Indians, and more particularly
he knew the ways of Peppajee; Baumberger, he guessed shrewdly,
had failed to find favor in his eyes.
"Huh!" grunted Peppajee non-commitally, and made no motion to
shake hands, thereby confirming Peaceful's suspicion. "Me heap
sabe Man-that-catchum-fish." After which he stood as before, his
arms folded tightly in his blanket, his chin lifted haughtily,
his mouth a straight, stern line of bronze.
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