“You did not follow me on purpose to tell me that, did you? I knew it when the Indians quit yelling. Now, how does it come?”
“Some of the tribe are bound to get into the Bad Lands to fight it out, and the others are going to the agent to surrender,” said Harding. “One wanted to kill you and the rest did not want to; so, between them, you got off without much pursuit. You can go straight to the fort if you want to; but be careful of those men who are going to the Bad Lands. They are on the warpath now.”
“Is that all you wanted to tell me?” asked Carl.
“No, it ain’t,” said the squawman. “Are you going to leave me without any weapons?”
“I don’t see that I can do anything else. I would be mighty foolish to turn this gun into your own hands. I will take it to the fort, and you can come there and get it.”
“Don’t you know that it is impossible for me to do that?” said the squawman in alarm. “If you take the rifle with you to the fort I am done for. The commanding officer will begin to ask me about those stages that were held up some time ago.”
“That is so,” said Carl thoughtfully. “You see you got yourself into a bad scrape by going with those fellows. Well, I will see what I can do for you. You are sure you don’t want any cattle from me, are you?”
“Nary one. I would not have asked you for them, but I was hard up. I wanted money, and didn’t care how I got it.”
“And there is another thing I want to tell you, Harding,” said Carl. He saw the squawman’s hands come down, but by that time he had lowered his rifle to the ground and drawn one of his revolvers, with which he covered the man’s head. “Do you know that your partners have been sent to the Leavenworth jail by this time?”
“No!” exclaimed the squawman.