"Yo' like
for be friend, yo' no come no more, mebbyso. No speakum. Bimeby
mebbyso no have bad heart no more. Kay bueno. Yo' white mans.
Rachel mebbyso thinkum all time yo' Indian. Mebbyso thinkum be
yo' squaw. Kay bueno. Yo' all time white mans. No speakum
Rachel no more, yo' be friend.
Yo' speakum, me like to kill yo', mebbyso." He spoke calmly, but
none the less his words carried conviction of his sincerity.
Within the wikiup Good Indian heard a smothered sob. He
listened, heard it again, and looked challengingly at Peppajee.
But Peppajee gave no sign that he either heard the sound or saw
the challenge in Good Indian's eyes.
"I Rachel's friend," he said, speaking distinctly with his face
half turned toward the wall of deerskin. "I want to tell Rachel
what the sheriff said. I want to thank Rachel, and tell her I'm
her friend. I don't want to bring trouble." He stopped and
listened, but there was no sound within.
Peppajee eyed him comprehendingly, but there was no yielding in
his brown, wrinkled face.
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