"I never heard just what they planned to do to this newcomer to get rid of him and his sheep, but I know how it had to end." She looked up, searching each boy's intent, astonished face.
"Say, what're you drivin' at, anyway? You can't fool me—it's him!" exclaimed Dave, pointing toward the sheep-ranch. "You're makin' up a story about him!"
"How'd you know all that?" asked the quicker, soft-voiced twin.
"Know all that. Why, how did you boys know all that? I suppose that I have ears, too—and I've heard of such things before," she replied.
"But you don't know how the end'll be. That's one thing you don't know," declared the soft-voiced twin. "You can't know that."
"She might be a fortune-teller like grandmother White Blanket," laughed the other.
"Is that old squaw in the farthest tepee from the house your own grandmother?" asked the girl.
"Yep, an' she ain't no squaw, either! She's a French half-breed," he said, with an unconscious proud uplifting of the shoulders.
Hope laughed slightly. "What's the other half?" she asked. The boy gave her a look of deep commiseration.
"I thought you had more learnin' than that! Why, the other half's white, of course."