Inza shook her head.
“No! no!” she cried. “I know you are mistaken! There are some good Indians.”
“They’re all dead ones.”
“I can’t think so, sir.”
“That’s because you don’t know ’em, miss. If you had seen the things I have—— Well, you wouldn’t think there could be such a thing as a good Injun alive.”
Still the girl could not be convinced.
“Why,” she exclaimed, “you saw the one who saved me from the drunken fellow. He was an Indian.”
“Yes.”
“Surely he is a good Indian.”
“You may think so.”