“Gopher Gabe says that you are the only one who can vork idt,” urged the fiddler.
“The thing I don’t like is that Cody and his gang are still in the town. That’s a feller I’m afraid of.”
“Idt’s a vonder,” said White-eyed Moses, “that he ain’t been oudt here looking for you.”
“Did you think he hadn’t?”
The fiddler stared.
“Vell, if he has ve ditn’t know idt.”
“He has been here twice, and old Iron Bow tells me that once, besides, it’s known he was out on the hills, off there, watching the village.”
“That interesds me. And it will be news to Gopher Gabe.”
“The first time he come,” explained Benson, “was in broad daylight; right after I’d made my escape. I think it was the second day I was here. I was expecting it, and stayed close in the tepee; and he didn’t see me. Iron Bow fed him lies, and he went away. Though that had seemed to satisfy him, he was back that same night. He sneaked in that time, thinking he’d catch me if I was hiding here; but he didn’t. He had an Indian blanket round him, and how long he had been in the village before the Indians caught on, nobody knows. He revealed himself accidentally, by catching his blanket against a snaggy limb and stripping it from his head and shoulders. After which, when he saw that the jig was up, he laughed and told them some fishy yarn about trying to fool them.
“When Iron Bow—he wasn’t here at the time—heard about it, the thing made him mad as fire. He doesn’t particularly like Cody, anyway; so I took pains to make him madder, showing him that it was an insult. So if Cody does it again, and is caught, there’s going to be trouble.”