"Yo' no b'lievum, Peacefu' no b'lievum. Me tellum
yo' cloud sign, tellum yo' smoke sign, tellum yo' hear much bad
talk for ketchum ranch. Yo' all time think for ketchum 'Vadnah
squaw. No think for stoppum mens. Yo' all time let mens come,
ketchum ranch. Yo' say fightum in co't. Cloud sign say me do
notting. Yo' lettum come. Yo' mebbyso makum go. Me no care."
"I see. Well, maybe you're right." He tightened the reins, and
rode away, the tight little wad of paper still hidden in his
palm. When he was quite out of sight from the camp and jogging
leisurely down the hot trail, he unfolded it carefully and looked
at it long.
His face was grave and thoughtful when at last he tore it into
tiny bits and gave it to the hot, desert wind. It was a pitiful
little message, printed laboriously upon a scrap of brown
wrapping--paper. It said simply:
"God by i lov yo."
CHAPTER XXIII
THE MALICE OF A SQUAW
Good Indian looked in the hammock, but Evadna was not there.
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