“I tidn’t knowed id, but I guessed id. I vill exblanation do you. Fairst, I vass brosbecting in dese moundains. I t’ink me as eferypoty iss afrait do come in here, den nopoty hass peen in here. You see dose boint? Yaw. So I came, mitout peing told py eenpoty.”
“It was a foolish thing to do.”
“Meppy so. Now it loogks id. Bud I ain’d deat yit. Uff I peen kilt soon py dese Inchuns I gan’t hellup id; unt maype, as you say, you vill gid me oudt uff here. So I make diss exblanation. I come hunding der golt for; unt look dere!”
He hammered the gold bars again, clattering about noisily with the wooden shoes.
Noticing that the white man glanced at the shoes, he said:
“Der likes uff heem I vear vhen I vass a poy, in der olt gountry. So I dhinks, vhen I blan diss drip, vooden shoon is maype petter as leadher vuns; maype der sand don’t purn t’rough der vood so pad as t’rough der leadher. Unt I vass righd; id don’t. In dese I valk all tay t’rough der hot desert uff der sands, unt I ton’d feel id.”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” Conover admitted. “But I should think they’d be so clumsy you couldn’t get along at all.”
Schnitzenhauser dissented vigorously, and danced across the floor to show how light he was on his feet, in spite of the clumsy shoes.
“Id make a heab uff tifference uff a veller peen used to ’em,” he asserted. “Dey vass Cherman shoes, unt I vear dhem as a poy already. It make me feel youngk again vhen I bud dese on my feed. Yaw, dat iss so.”
“About this other matter,” said Conover. “I’m told you were following the trail of the pony that came, in here. I didn’t see you, but that’s what the Indians reported here.”