“Good! Ryker mamook hyas cultus wau-wau.”
Stress of emotion caused the old squaw to revert to the trade language of her people. Translated, it meant that Ryker made a very bad talk.
“How can he turn Peter loose?” demanded Dawn indignantly. “Is Ryker the law?”
“Crooked!” said the old lady.
“It surely is! If I marry him he’ll turn Peter loose. Why, I wouldn’t marry him.”
“Peter hang, mebby.”
“Oh, I don’t mean it that way, mother. I want Peter to go free. You know that, don’t you? Why, he’s my brother; but to marry Jeff Ryker—”
“Too much talk about marry,” said the old lady. “Cutter talk to Mose. You don’t know. He want marry you. Jimmy Moran want marry you.”
“Kent Cutter want to marry me?”
“You right. Mose tell him go to hell.”