The Indian made an impatient gesture with one hand. “Foolish accident. I was lining the boxes up along the dock when I thought I heard somebody call my name. I looked up and turned around. Well, I guess I must have lost my footing, because the next thing I knew I was falling in the water. Then, all of a sudden, I felt this bang on my head and all the lights went out. Cracked right into a piling, I guess.” He grinned up at them. “Things like that happen sometimes. You can’t do much about it.”
“What about those Indians, Joe?” Mr. Cook asked quietly.
Joe’s eyes narrowed and Sandy thought he saw him grow pale. “What Indians?” he said sharply.
“Luke said he thought he saw some Indians right near the place where you fell. He said they were coming away from the river after you went in.” Mr. Cook laid a slight but significant stress on the word “after.”
Joe tried to dismiss the Indians with a shrug. “If they were there, I didn’t see them.”
“Luke yelled out,” Mr. Cook continued, “but they didn’t stop.”
“Why should they?”
“Wouldn’t you stop if somebody called?”
“That depends on who it was. Maybe they didn’t hear him.” He looked at Mr. Cook with an unfriendly stare. “I don’t get it,” he said resentfully. “What are you trying to prove?”
There was a pause as Mr. Cook dragged over a chair and sat down beside the bed. “Look, Joe,” he said, “take it easy. I’m not trying to prove a thing. It’s just that there are a couple of things that are bothering us.” Joe waited unsmilingly for Mr. Cook to go on. “Earlier today, you mentioned some Crow Indians you didn’t seem to like very much. Next, you can’t wait to get started on the trip to Mormon Crossing. And finally, you almost get killed.”