“You didn’t seen me?”
Conover had made a slip, probably, but he smiled.
“I might as well tell you just how it was,” he said, “and then you’ll have a clearer understanding. A child was stolen from the town of Skyline. You know where that is?”
“Apowet. But I ain’d neffer peen dere.”
“A certain woman stole that child from there, and set out to bring it here. The Indians here didn’t know it—didn’t know she intended to do it, though it so nearly concerned them.”
“Vat iss? Chilt sdealin’ iss a mean pitzness.”
“I reckon you’re right about that. But that isn’t my story. She set out with the child, and Buffalo Bill and some of his pards——”
“Vat!” The German flounced round, staring. “Dit you say Puffalo Pill?”
“Buffalo Bill and his pards, Nomad and Hickok, set out, with another man, to follow the trail of the person who kidnaped the child.”
“De chilt iss in vat blace?”