“Know all about it, where my pop was killed and Mr. Landray and his brother, they know all about it—”
A light broke on Ephriam.
“Oh, I see, and you think they were with the Indians?”
Benny nodded, and answered a whispered yes to this.
“Perhaps you had better not tell any one what you have told me, Benny; but some of them were Indians?”
“Some,” said Benny, still in a whisper.
Ephriam turned away.
“Wait!” cried the child. “I got something to give you.” And from about his neck he unfastened a string to which was attached a small buckskin bay. “He gave me that,” he said, extending the bag to Ephriam.
“Who, Benny? Your father?”
“No, Mr. Landray. He said I was to give it to some white man who'd know what to do with it. You must send it to Benson.”