"No," the Indian replied drily.
"How so?"
"Where is the golden-haired girl?"
"I do not understand you, Chief," the half-breed said; on the contrary, understanding perfectly well.
The Indian smiled.
"The Paleface will look at Blue-fox," he said, "and will then see that he is a Chief, and not a child who can be put off with falsehoods. What has become of the girl with the golden hair, who lives here with my brother?"
"The person of whom you speak, if you mean the young lady to whom this house belongs—"
"Yes."
"Well! she is not here."
The Chief gave him a searching glance.