"Save her from what?"
The Crow's eyes gleamed in the dusk under the wagon cover.
"From a fool husband," he answered.
"Oh, that's all right," cried Heap-of-dogs. "But I get his scalp. I want his scalp on my belt. Best scalp in the world. Say it's for me."
"When I have finished with him, not before."
"And you'll save my sister?"
"I'll make her wife of a big chief."
"What chief?"
"Am I not a big chief?"
"But if you get my sister for your wife, what sort of present do you make to me?"