"What is his game?" said George.
"I do not know," said I, "but whatever it is you may be sure it is nothing mean."
George meditated and then:
"No, I guess not," he said. "He's too deep for me, though. I don't understand him. Did he ever tell you our little trouble?"
"No," said I.
"Neither will I, then," said he, "and I guess he never will."
"I would n't think of asking him," said I.
"And he would n't think of telling," replied George.
And just then Apache Kid came out and Miss Pinkerton with him. I think it was as well that the verandah was in shadow.
"George," she said, and I at least caught a tremble in her voice. "Ain't this too bad? Apache Kid tells me that he has just reckoned on pulling out right away,—says he never meant to stay here over night. I wanted to lend him two of our mounts, but he says he 's got these two from an Indian, and they 'll serve. Do you think you could get a pair of saddles turned out?"