“I see nothing peculiar in an Apache Indian being fond of tiswin; indeed he would be eccentric if he was not, and what is remarkable in their association with two others of their race?”
“During that flurry last winter, Maroz and Ceballos were among the fiercest allies that Geronimo had. Mendez overheard a conversation between the two and Geronimo which proved their treachery. At that time, Mendez would have shot both could he have gained the chance. He and Cemuri know they cannot be trusted and yet they seem to be bosom friends.”
Captain Murray could not restrain the remark:
“You wore the gray and I the blue; it is not so many years ago that we were striving to kill each other; I don’t think there’s much of the desire left. You must bear in mind that this is the era of good feeling.”
“Ah, my dear fellow, your examples are not parallel. You and I, like tens of thousands similarly placed, will be the best of friends to the end, but an Indian’s nature is different. He will nurse his wrongs for ten or twenty years, to break out in a fury when least expected. But,” added Freeman, “you will begin to suspect from my words that I am giving away to idle fears, which is not the case. I believe with you that there’s not one chance in—say a score—of this part of the country being raided by hostile Indians.”
“Say not one chance in a thousand and you will be in accord with my views.”
“I can hardly put it as strong as that; but I’m going to ride over to the fort to-morrow, and as the day is sure to be like tophet, I will leave my Winchester at home.”
“You would be foolish to do otherwise. I haven’t carried mine for two months past. The iron gets so hot that if you don’t look out it will blister your hands, and the burden is an unnecessary one.”
“Then,” added Freeman slyly, “if the Apaches should happen to make one of their raids while I am away, it will be a handy thing for Molly, for she knows how to use it.”