"Me go camp. Me thinkum, thinkum all time. Dat man have bad
heart. Kay bueno. No can sleep--thinkum mebbyso do bad for
Peaceful. Come ranch, stop all time dark, all time heap watchum.
Bimeby, mebbyso man--all same yo' callum Baumberga--him come,
look, so--" He indicated, by a great craning of neck in all
directions, the wariness of one who goes by stealth. "Him walk
still all time, go all time ova there." He swept his arm toward
the meadows. "Me go still, for watchum. Yo' come, mebbyso make
heap much noise--kay bueno. Dat mans, him hear, him heap scare.
Me tellum, yo' mebbyso go still." He folded his arms with a
gesture of finality, and stood statue-like in the deep gloom
beside the rock.
Good Indian fingered his horse's mane while he considered the
queer story. There must be something in it, he thought, to bring
Peppajee from his blankets at midnight and to impel him,
unfriendly as he usually seemed, to confide his worry to him at
once and without urging.
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