“You’re not a native. You have a foreign air about you, you have,” I shouted.
“You’re right.”
“Where do you hail from?”
“Been living with the Osage Indians for the last twelve years.”
I thought as much. He was all Indian, and I concluded to avoid him, but he did not intend to drop the subject so easily.
“Do you see that Osage relic?” pointing to an Indian blanket hanging on a hook against the wall. “That’s one of the things I brought back with me. I’m a man with a history. I can give you some points about a country that is a country.”
He again lapsed into silence. On the invitation to procure points, I determined to interview him.
“What were you doing among the Indians? Hunting?” I asked.
“No.”
“A trader?”