"Wa-al, whar wuz yer takin' her?"
"Nowhere."
"Seems ter me it didn't look thet way."
The half-blood said nothing, but he and his companions were beginning to finger their weapons.
"You may hev found her all right," admitted Old Rocks; "but yer made a mistake in keepin' her. I'll take her now."
"Dunno 'bout that," muttered Half Hand.
"Whut?" roared the old man, suddenly aroused, having thrust his pipe into his pocket. "You dunno? Wa-al, I will allow thet I know! Look yar, you'll be gittin' inter one o' ther derndest scrapes you ever did ef you tries ter kerry off this yere gal. It'll be reported, an' ther United States soldiers will take an' hang yer all!"
"Bah!" sneered the half-breed. "Who care for soldiers! We find gal; she b'long to us."
"Not much!"
"What white man do?"