Musq'oosis shrugged deprecatingly. "Horses go out. Get wicked in stable all tam."
"All right," said Bela. "I say when they go out."
"W'at's the matter?" asked Musq'oosis mildly. "Before w'at is mine is yours, and yours is mine."
"All right. Don't tak' my horses," Bela repeated stubbornly.
Musq'oosis sat down by the fire. Bela rattled the cups to justify herself. The old man stole a glance at her, wondering how he could say what he wished to say without bringing about another explosion.
"For why you mad at me?" he asked finally.
"You mind your business!" Bela cried passionately. "Keep out of my business. I know where you been to-day. You been lookin' for Sam. Everybody t'ink I send you look for Sam. That mak' me mad. I wouldn't go to Sam if he was bleed to death by the road!"
"Nobody see me," said Musq'oosis soothingly.
"Everyt'ing get known here," she returned. "The trees tell it."
"I know where he is," Musq'oosis murmured with an innocent air.