“Including Rat,” suggested Reuben.
“What do you mean?” thundered the trapper, his face once more expressive of his anger.
“Nothing, except that you stand in your own way. That’s what everybody about the camp says. They would like to be friends with you, but you won’t let them.”
“Why won’t I let them? I would like to be on good terms with everybody.”
“With Kit Carson?” inquired Reuben.
“Yes, even with Kit Carson.” As Rat spoke, Reuben was conscious for an instant of a deep scowl that appeared on the face of the trapper, but it disappeared so quickly that he was not even positive that it had been there at all. “What would Kit Carson say if I came back to camp?” inquired Rat at last.
“That would depend very much upon what you yourself said, I reckon. If I remember right, that’s the way it was before, wasn’t it? If you had kept quiet Kit Carson would have been quiet, too.”
“I hear he has married a squaw,” suggested Rat.
“You can hear all sorts of things.”
“Did he?”