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Bower, B. M., 1871-1940

"Good Indian"


Another squaw had appeared, was all. A young squaw, with
bright-red ribbons braided into her shining black hair, and
great, sad eyes brightening the dull copper tint of her face.
"You no be 'fraid," she murmured shyly to Miss Georgie, and
stopped where she was just inside the door. "You no be sad. No
trouble come Good Injun. I friend."
Hagar turned, and snarled at her in short, barking words which
Miss Georgie could not understand. The young squaw folded her
arms inside her bright, plaid shawl, and listened with an
indifference bordering closely on contempt, one would judge from
her masklike face. Hagar turned from berating her, and thrust
out her chin at Miss Georgie.
"I go. Sun go 'way, mebbyso I come. Mebbyso yo' heart bad. Me
ketchum much dolla yo', me no tellum, mebbyso. No ketchum, me
tell sheriff mans Good Injun all time killum Man-that-coughs."
Turning, she waddled out, jabbing viciously at the young squaw
with her elbow as she passed, and spitting out some sort of
threat or command--Miss Georgie could not tell which.


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