"Maybe," he said.
The woman's face flushed.
"Maybe? Of course he'll come back," she cried with heat. "He—he has gone to collect wood."
The Indian nodded and went on smoking.
"Him fetch wood. Sure," he said presently. "Him go day—night—morning. Si-wash fetch wood. One hour—two—three. Then Si-wash come back. Si-wash not crazy."
Suddenly Audie sprang to her feet. Her eyes flashed, and a fierce anger swept through her whole body.
"Leo is not crazy. Don't dare to say he is," she cried vehemently. "I—I could kill you for saying it."
The Indian gave no sign before the woman's furious threat. He smoked on, and when she had once more dropped to her seat, and the hopeless light in her eyes had once more returned, he removed his pipe from his mouth.
"Si-wash—you kill 'em. It no matter. Leo, him crazy still. You stop here—an' freeze. So. It much no good."
The man's good humor was quite unruffled, and Audie, in spite of her brave defence of her lover, despairingly buried her face in her hands.