“How many Indians did you say came out of there?”
“Why, about seventy-five or a hundred. What are you laughing at?” he demanded as a smile overspread Joseph’s face.
“Nothing,” replied Joseph quietly, “except this: I spent most of last night in that ravine you were describing.”
“What if you did?” exclaimed Walt warmly. “That doesn’t say a hundred or more Indians didn’t charge out from there earlier, does it?”
“Well, I don’t know,” mused Joseph. “The trouble with your story is this: I reached that gully before any of the Indians. I hid there all night and I counted every Indian that pursued our men. I counted them as they went out and I counted them again as they came back, just to make sure they had all returned.”
“Do you insinuate that I am a liar?” cried Walt, half rising to his feet.
“I insinuate nothing,” replied Joseph coolly. “I am merely stating facts.”
Silence reigned in the little company. The men gathered there looked curiously from one to the other of the speakers. The situation was tense and for a moment it seemed as if there might be trouble.
“All right then,” said Walt in response to Joseph’s statement. “Tell us how many Indians you counted.” The trapper’s tone was contemptuous, for he had been piqued at the way the two brothers threatened him when he made remarks about Deerfoot and he still held his grudge.
“How many do you think there were?” Joseph demanded.