“It’s them,” he said, indicating the reflected fires.
“And what are they?” Rosebud’s voice was quietly commanding. The irresponsible girl had gone from the woman talking now.
“Sun-dances. They’re doin’ it at night to cover their tracks. The Injuns are gettin’ wise.”
“You mean?”
There was no avoiding the sharp, direct questioning.
“We’re goin’ to git it, and when it comes it’ll be—sudden. Sudden an’ bad. It’s both Reservations. All of ’em.”
Rosebud was silent. Her wide open eyes were on the lights, but her thoughts were on other things,—so many other things, that her head whirled. At last she spoke again, in a tense, nervous manner.
“Tell me about it. Tell me all.”
Seth shook his head.
“Ther’ ain’t a deal.”