Seth looked long and thoughtfully at the split skull on the ground. Then his eyes sought the bullet hole in the woman’s skull. But he said nothing.
A little later the two men went back to the horses and mounted.
“Guess I’ll git on to see the Agent,” Seth observed, while the horses moved away from the bluff.
“You go by Reservation?”
“Yes.”
Jim Crow surveyed the prospect in silence. They reached the trail, and their horses stood preparatory to parting company.
“S’long,” said Seth.
The Indian turned and looked away to the north. 94 It was the direction in which lay the great Reservations. Then he turned back, and his black, slit-like eyes shot a sidelong glance at his companion.
“You go—alone?” he asked.
The other nodded indifferently.