"I'd have thought Lahoma would recognize the ladder."
"So she done; but couldn't the Injun have stole my ladder and carried it to that boulder? Just as soon as Miss Sellimer was well enough to travel, NOTHING couldn't hold her in these parts, and that's why your brother had to leave before seeing you—he's setting to Miss Sellimer, and if Lahoma don't git him away from her, I reckon he's a goner!"
Bill Atkins spoke vaguely. "It wasn't none of my doings."
Wilfred looked steadily at Willock. "What about your whiskers?"
"Oh, as to them, it was like old times; you takes a cloth and cuts it out—painted red—Psha! What are we talking of? Bill, let's show him her letter—what do you say?"
"I reckon it wouldn't hurt," Bill conceded.
"How'd you like it, Wilfred? We can't produce our little gal to keep you company, but her letter would sort of be like hearing her talk, wouldn't it? And if you stay with us a spell, we'll let you read 'em as they come."
Wilfred perceived that Willock was anxious to get his mind off the harrowing adventure of the crevice, and as he was eager to hear the letter, and as Brick and Bill were anxious to hear it again, nothing more was said about the "big Injun."
"Who'll read it?" asked Bill, as he drew the precious letter from the strong box behind the stove.
"Let Wilfred do the deed," Willock suggested. "It travels slow in my company, and though Bill reads 'er correct, he does considerable droning. I expect if Wilfred reads it with unction, it'll sound like a new document."