I think the Indian was surprised there was no attempt to beat down the
price and regretted he had not asked more.
When Apache Kid paid for the horses he gave me the halters to hold,
stood absently a moment with puckered brows and biting lips, then drew a
long breath and stepped into the house again. George did not follow but
stood looking over the plain.
"What is his game?" said George.
"I do not know," said I, "but whatever it is you may be sure it is
nothing mean."
George meditated and then:
"No, I guess not," he said. "He's too deep for me, though. I don't
understand him. Did he ever tell you our little trouble?"
"No," said I.
"Neither will I, then," said he, "and I guess he never will."
"I would n't think of asking him," said I.
"And he would n't think of telling," replied George.
And just then Apache Kid came out and Miss Pinkerton with him. I think
it was as well that the verandah was in shadow.
"George," she said, and I at least caught a tremble in her voice.
"Ain't this too bad? Apache Kid tells me that he has just reckoned on
pulling out right away,--says he never meant to stay here over night. I
wanted to lend him two of our mounts, but he says he 's got these two
from an Indian, and they 'll serve. Do you think you could get a pair
of saddles turned out?"
"Ce't'inly," said George; and away he went to rout out the saddles.