The red-girl’s voice quickly followed the renegade’s:
“The Pale Pawnee’s rifle shoots a big bullet,” she said, calmly, firmly. “It will not enter the muzzle of the white boy’s gun. Take Kenoagla’s lead and try it. It will not fit the white boy’s gun; but it will fit the hole between Red Eagle’s eyes. And then, Kenoagla hated Red Eagle because he got the Gold Girl.”
Three Pawnees sprung from their steeds and griped the rifle which George Long had retained with a deathly grip while sinking in the quicksand.
Tom Kyle tossed them a bullet.
“Take it!” he hissed. “That girl can make the Pawnee believe any thing.”
The savages who were prominent actors in the cabal which existed against the renegade, carried on the examination.
Tom Kyle’s bullet would not fit the boy’s gun; but it could be placed in the hole in Red Eagle’s brain. It fitted that death-wound to a nicety.
The examination concluded with a yell.
The renegade handed his rifle to a chief.
“If I slew Red Eagle I would fight; but, knowing that I never aimed at his head, I surrender to my people.”