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Bower, B. M., 1871-1940

"Good Indian"


Evadna appeared tentatively in the open door, stood there for a
minute or two waiting for some overture upon his part, gave him a
chilly good-night when she realized he was not even thinking of
her, and left him. So great was his absorption that he let her
go, and it never occurred to him that she might possibly consider
herself ill-used. He would have been distressed if he could have
known how she cried herself to sleep but, manlike, he would also
have been puzzled.

CHAPTER XVIII
A SHOT FROM THE RIM-ROCK
Good Indian was going to the stable to feed the horses next
morning, when something whined past him and spatted viciously
against the side of the chicken-house. Immediately afterward he
thought he heard the sharp crack which a rifle makes, but the
wind was blowing strongly up the valley, and he could not be
sure.
He went over to the chicken-house, probed with his knife-blade
into the plank where was the splintered hole, and located a
bullet. He was turning it curiously in his fingers when another
one plunked into the boards, three feet to one side of him; this
time he was sure of the gun-sound, and he also saw a puff of blue
smoke rise up on the rim-rock above him.


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