"Glad to know you intend to help us fight the Indians," answered
Tom innocently.
"Me fight der Indians? Vot you means py dot?" demanded Hans, his light-blue eyes wide open with interest.
"Why, don't you know that we are here to learn how to fight
Indians?" went on Tom, with a side wink at those around him.
"No; I dink me dis vos von school only."
"So it is—a school to learn how to shoot and scalp."
"Schalp! Vot's dot?"
"Cut an Indian's top-knot off with a knife, this way," and Tom made an imaginary slash at Hans' golden locks.
"Ton't do dot!" stammered the German boy, falling back. "No, I ton't vant to learn to schalp, noputty."
"But you are willing to fight the Indians, are you not?" put in
Sam. "We are all going to do that, you know."
"I ton't like dem Indians," sighed Hans. "I see me some of dem vonde by a show in Chermany, und I vos afraid."