“Of course I believe in it, and so does every man who has seen it. If I didn’t believe in it, here’s something that would set me all right.”
He bared his brawny arm up to the shoulder when he said this, and showed Carl the scar made by a bullet which had come very near ending his life.
“You see that, don’t you?” said the squawman, fairly hissing the words through his teeth.
“Of course I see it. But you had no business to be caught robbing my father. I did not do it.”
“I know you didn’t; but I have got you now, and I intend to make use of you, too. Go in here.”
The squawman paused in front of a tepee whose flap was wide open. Carl entered and found himself on the inside of an Indian house, and, although he had been in similar situations before, he did not see how any Indian tepee could be as dirty as this one was. The beds were scattered all over, for the Indian women had not yet found the time to gather them up, and on one of them lay half a dozen children fast asleep. Without an invitation he sat down on one of the beds and waited to see what the squawman was going to do next. That worthy seemed to be in excellent spirits, and it was not long before the secret came out.
Carl captured by the squawman.
![[View larger image.]](#80929470552761941_p118.jpg.id-8738787314527692698.wrap-0.html.html){kind=link}
“Those women you saw outside don’t all belong to me,” said he, as he took his pipe from his pocket. “One of them is my wife, and the others belong to my partners, Ainsworth and Tuttle, whom your worthy general has got in limbo. You heard about our holding up that stage, didn’t you?”