“He good as three, four, half dozen,” said the Indian. “Keep good.”
“You don’t care about selling him, do you?”
“Well, s’pose Injun sell, what you give?”
“O, I don’t want him,” said Fred. “I’ve got one that just suits me.”
“I have a horse I’ll trade for him,” said Archie. “How much boot will you give me? I know he is good, for I rode him all the way from Salt Lake City.”
“Where he?” asked the Indian, looking around.
“O, he’s down at the camp.”
“S’pose you let Injun see him.”
“All right, I will.”
Archie walked off, whistling as he went, and acting altogether very unconcerned; but he was in reality highly excited. The Indian talked as if he might possibly be induced to trade, and the prospect of owning a horse that could beat his cousin’s, was enough to put Archie in the best of spirits. He caught his nag, which was feeding near the camp, saddled and bridled him, and rode back to the Fort. He found his friends waiting for him on the other side of the stockade, where they had taken the Indian and his horse, so that Frank, if he should happen to come out, should not see what was going on. They intended to make the trade, if they could, and surprise him.