Wichita gasped. “Oh, I didn’t say that!” she cried.
“It was in your heart. The Apache knows.” There was no rancor in his voice.
“Oh, Shoz-Dijiji, I couldn’t say that to you—I couldn’t mean it. Can’t you see that I couldn’t?”
They had reached the ranch gate and stopped. “Listen,” said the Apache. “Shoz-Dijiji saw the look in the white girl’s eyes when he kissed her. Shoz-Dijiji has seen that look in the eyes of white women when a snake touched them. Shoz-Dijiji understands.”
“You do not understand!” cried the girl. “God! you do not understand anything.”
“Shoz-Dijiji understands that white girl is for white man—Apache for Apache. If not, you would not have looked that way when Shoz-Dijiji took you in his arms. Cheetim wanted you. He is a white man.” There was a trace of bitterness in his tone. “Why did not you go with him? He is no Apache to bring the snake-look to your eyes.”
The girl was about to reply when they were interrupted by the sound of a gruff voice and looking up saw Billings striding angrily toward them.
“Get in here, Chita!” he ordered, roughly, and then turned to Shoz-Dijiji. “What the hell do you want?” he demanded.
“Father!” exclaimed the girl. “This is my friend. You have no right——”
“No dirty, sneaking, murdering Siwash can hang around my ranch,” shouted Billings angrily. “Now get the hell out of here and stay out!”