She laughed then--did Hagar--and waddled
after the others, her whole body seeming to radiate contentment
with the evil she had wrought.
"There's nothing on earth can equal the malice of an old squaw,"
said Phoebe, breaking into the silence which followed. "I'd hope
she don't go around peddling that story--not that anyone would
believe it, but--"
Good Indian looked at her, and at Evadna. He opened his lips for
speech, and closed them without saying a word. That near he came
to telling them the truth about meeting Miss Georgie, and
explaining about the hair and the knife and the footprints Hagar
had prated about. But he thought of Rachel, and knew that he
would never tell anyone, not even Evadna. The girl loosened his
arm, and moved toward her aunt.
"I hate Indians--squaws especially," she said positively. "I
hate the way they look at one with their beady eyes, just like
snakes. I believe that horrid old thing lies awake nights just
thinking up nasty, wicked lies to tell about the people she
doesn't like.
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