“Mary Standish did a lot. She fixed up this room.”
“I guessed as much,” replied Alan. “Of course Keok and Nawadlook helped her.”
“Not very much. She did it. Made the curtains. Put them pictures and flags there. Picked the flowers. Been nice an’ thoughtful, hasn’t she?”
“And somewhat unusual,” added Alan.
“And she is pretty.”
“Most decidedly so.”
There was a puzzling look in Stampede’s eyes. He twisted nervously in his chair and waited for words. Alan sat down opposite him.
“What’s on your mind, Stampede?”
“Hell, mostly,” shot back Stampede with sudden desperation. “I’ve come loaded down with a dirty job, and I’ve kept it back this long because I didn’t want to spoil your fun tonight. I guess a man ought to keep to himself what he knows about a woman, but I’m thinking this is a little different. I hate to do it. I’d rather take the chance of a snake-bite. But you’d shoot me if you knew I was keeping it to myself.”
“Keeping what to yourself?”