I've something to tell
you."
That was what she had written. He read it twice before he looked
up.
"What time you ketchum this?" he asked, tapping the message with
his finger.
"Mebbyso one hour." The buck pulled a brass watch ostentatiously
from under his blanket, held it to his ear a moment, as if he
needed auricular assurance that it was running properly, and
pointed to the hour of three. "Ketchum one dolla, mebbyso
pikeway quick. No stoppum," he said virtuously.
"You see Peaceful in Hartley?" Good Indian asked the question
from an idle impulse; in reality, he was wondering what it was
that Miss Georgie had to tell him.
"Peacefu', him go far off. On train. All same heap fat man go
'long. Mebbyso Shoshone, mebbyso Pocatello."
Good Indian looked down at the note, and frowned; that, probably,
was what she had meant to tell him, though he could not see where
the knowledge was going to help him any. If Peaceful had gone to
Shoshone, he was gone, and that settled it.
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