“Strong Heart he better be here,” declared the aged redskin. “Heap lot o’ trouble pretty soon.”
“That’s right, Joe. But how do you know anything about it?”
“Joe he know. Him no fool. Him find out.”
Bart had extended his hand, and now he assisted the old man to his feet. Although old Joe tried to conceal the fact, he seemed rather stiff in his joints just then.
“What’s the matter, Crowfoot?” questioned Bart. “Rheumatism troubles you again?”
“Debble got old Joe in his bones,” indignantly returned the savage. “Old Joe him no good any more. Make old Joe mad when him think he no good.”
Under other circumstances the indignation of the redskin over his infirmities might have been somewhat amusing.
“But tell me—tell me how you came to be here at this time,” questioned Hodge. “We last saw you away up in Wyoming. You said then that you’d never travel south again.”
“Heap think so then. When winter he come Joe have debble ache in his bones plenty bad. Sabe?”
“And so the rheumatism and cold weather drove you south, eh?”