Nevil’s blue eyes followed the upward curling wreath of smoke which dawdled on the still air above the fire.
“Yup.”
“Fancy the Injuns are on the racket?”
“Wal, ’tain’t what they’re doin’ now. But ther’ ain’t no tellin’, an’ we’re slack since the harvest. I ’lows the notion’s tol’ble. Mebbe they’ll be quiet some—now Rosebud’s gone.”
There was a quiet emphasis on Seth’s final speculation.
“I heard she’d gone away for a bit.”
Nevil looked searchingly at this man whom he hated above all men. 202
“Gone for good,” Seth said, with an admirable air of indifference.
“How?”
Nevil suddenly sat up. Seth noted the fact without even glancing in his direction.