The Indian waited coolly, taking out a tobacco bag and a packet of cigarette papers. Rube thought it curious that he did not make a cigarette, but hesitatingly returned the material to his pocket, as if on deliberation he had decided not to smoke.
"I see you got a visitor, Rube," said Abe, as he strode up. "How do, Broken Feather! You still coveting that Arab mare?—wantin' to buy her, since you couldn't steal her? Well, she ain't for sale."
"I was hoping to see Lord St. Olave," announced the chief. "I come to pay a friendly call upon him. Why not?"
"Friendly?" Abe stared at him in amazement. "Say, you've got some nerve t' come right here an' talk like that, mister. Lord St. Olave ain't anyways likely t' accept friendly calls from the likes o' you. Thar's too much bad blood 'tween you an' him fer that. Anyhow, he's not at home, an' won't be for a long while. So thar's no use your hangin' around."
"Won't be for a long while," Broken Feather repeated. Then with a look of cunning he added: "It will be a longer while than you think."
As he went away, treading very silently, he looked round and spoke in his own tongue, which neither Abe nor Rube could understand. He disappeared as mysteriously as he had come. When he was out of sight, Mee-Mee went up to Abe Harum.
"You no savvy what he say," she said. "I savvy heap. He say Kiddie never, never come back. He say he catch Kiddie on trail, kill him, take him scalp."
"I don't notion he came here ter say that, though," said Rube.
"What d'you reckon he come for?" asked Abe.
"Dunno," said Rube. "But I got a idea. Mother," he turned to Mee-Mee, "jus' you hustle back t' the homestead an' let the big dog loose, will yer?"