“Yes, it was on a hill.”
“I knowed it,” declared the Missourian triumphantly.
“Knowed what?” demanded Jim with some impatience.
“Why, this little cuss came out of that scuffle back yonder; most anybody would have guessed that but you, Jim.”
“And he come here all by himself? Not any,” but his friend ignored what he said to turn again to the boy.
“There were four other men beside your pa with the wagons, warn't there, son?”
The child nodded, but his eyes still flashed with a precocious sense of wrong and hate.
“I knowed it,” declared the Missourian in triumph a second time. “And it was the Indians they fit with, you're sure about that?”
“It was the Indians,” said the child indifferently. “My pop said it was the Indians.”
“I reckon he ought to have knowed,” said the baffled Missourian. “But they were certainly curious Indians from what we seen.”