“Can you talk Indian—but, of course, you can.”
“Better than English,” he smiled.
Hugh had followed them.
“Barbara, your mother wants you,” he said, and the little girl turned toward the house. The stranger was ill at ease with Hugh and the latter knew it.
“It must be very exciting where you live.”
“How?”
“Oh, fighting Indians and shooting deer and turkeys and buffalo. It must be great fun.”
“Nobody does it for fun—it’s mighty hard work.”
“My uncle—your father—used to tell us about his wonderful adventures out there.”
“He had no chance to tell me.”