"I don't feel that way about the Lipans if they did capture me. All I want of them is to get away and go back to the settlements."
"Maybe your folks won't know you when you come."
Steve looked down at his fine muscular form from limb to limb, while the stern, wrinkled face of his companion almost put on a smile.
"I'd have to wash, that's a fact."
"Get off your war-paint. Put on some white men's clothing. Cut your hair."
"They'd know me then."
"You've grown a head taller since you was captured, and they've made a Lipan of you all over but in two places."
"What are they?"
"Your eyes and hair. They're as light as mine were when I was of your age."
"I'm not a Lipan inside, Murray, nor any other kind of Indian. It would take more than three years to do that."