They had a well made up story to tell him, but it was not very easy for him to believe it.
"Met the two mining fellers, did ye? And they're friends with the 'Paches. Wouldn't let 'em do ye any harm. How many redskins was there?"
"Three. We never fired a shot at 'em nor struck a blow, but one of thar squaws fired an arrer through my arm."
"It's the onlikeliest yarn I ever listened to."
"Thar's the hole in my arm."
"Not that. It isn't queer an Apache wanted to shoot ye. I can believe that. But that you had sense enough not to fire first at a redskin. You never had so much before in all your life."
"Here we are, safe—all three."
"That's pretty good proof. If there'd been a fight they'd ha' been too much for you, with two white men like them to help. Well, we'll go right on down. It's our only show."
"That isn't all, Cap."
"What more is there?"