“You do? I have a good notion to choke you for saying as much.”
“You wanted the truth, and now you have it. I would like to make you a bet. In less than a year you won’t hear a thing of the Ghost Dance. Your religion will die out entirely.”
“What makes you think so?” said the squawman, who seemed surprised to hear this.
“Because the Messiah won’t come. The soldiers will come in here——”
“Oh, shut your mouth. The soldiers won’t have a thing to do with it. If they come on us, we’ll whip them in a way that will do their hearts good.”
“You will see. If I see you at the end of a year——”
“You will not see me, unless that letter you write to the general brings my partners back to me.”
“When do you want me to write that letter?”
“Just as soon as the Ghost Dance is over. You haven’t got any paper with you?”
Carl replied that he had not.