“Never mind. Where you can't find him?”
“Do you make this you're affair?”
“I won't say that, but it was self-defence. If he hadn't shot the Indian, the Indian would probably have shot him.”
“Who says so? Did you see the fight? Fight?” he laughed aloud. “Fight? It was murder, cowardly murder!”
“No, we didn't see the fight,” Stephen answered calmly.
“Oh, you take his word, do you? Well, I don't,” and he started toward the wagons. “He's in there, and by God, I'll have him out, and Baptiste here shall settle with him!”
“Dunlevy! Walsh!” called Stephen sharply.
The two men stepped in front of the fur trader.
“Basil,” said Stephen, “we'll inquire into this when we're all cooler.”
“We'll settle it now!” swore Basil, with a great oath.