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Bower, B. M., 1871-1940

"Good Indian"


"If you've said all you want to say, you better go," Good Indian
told her after a moment of silence while they glared at each
other. "I won't touch you--because you're such a devil I
couldn't stop short of killing you, once I laid my hands on you."
He stopped, held his lips tightly shut upon the curses he would
not speak, and Evadna felt his biceps tauten under her fingers as
if he were gathering himself for a lunge at the old squaw. She
looked up beseechingly into his face, and saw that it was sharp
and stern, as it had been that morning when the men had first
been discovered in the orchard. He raised his free arm, and
pointed imperiously to the trail.
"Pikeway!" he commanded.
Viney and Lucy shrank from the tone of him, and, hiding their
faces in a fold of blanket, slunk silently away like dogs that
have been whipped and told to go. Even Hagar drew back a pace,
hardy as was her untamed spirit. She looked at Evadna clinging
to his arm, her eyes wide and startlingly blue and horrified at
all she had heard.


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