"Yes, all gone," replied Jennie, much amused.
"Good, good," replied the old woman.
"Where have you been, Mary?"
Her white teeth shone out in a sudden smile. "Ice-house—heap cold."
"What did you go in there for?"
"Cowboy no good—mebbe so shoot."
"They won't hurt you," said Jennie, gently. "Go to work again. The Captain will take care of you."
"Little Father no got gun—cowboy heap gun."
"Little Father don't need gun now; you are all right," Jennie said, and the old woman went to her work again, though nervously alert to every sound.
From nowhere in particular, two sharp-eyed lads sauntered up the road to play under the office window, so that if any loud word should be spoken the tribe might know of it.