"My man shot me."
"What?" cried Stella, in a horrified tone. "Your man shot you? What do you mean by that?"
"I am Running Bear's squaw."
"You are married to Running Bear?"
The girl nodded her head.
"And did Running Bear shoot you?"
"Yes. He shot me and left me to die."
"The horrible brute. What did he shoot you for?"
"He said he had too many squaws, and wanted a white squaw."
"Couldn't he have sent you away without trying to kill you?"