"You make him talk!" Jim returned scornfully. "All you did was t' make him shut up. Whitey made him talk."
"G'wan," Bill retorted. "Didn't them suggestions o' mine 'bout white men an' Injuns start him thinkin' 'bout that bad White Chief hombre? An' didn't I get rid o' Henry Dorgan, 'cause Injun's distrustful of him, an' wouldn't chin with him 'round?"
"'F y'ask for my opinion, I don't b'lieve none o' you made him talk," said Shorty Palmer. "I think he just—"
"I didn't ask for your opinion," Bill interrupted. "No feller c'n tell me nothin' 'bout Injuns—"
But if this bunk house argument were followed to its end I should have to write another book. Perhaps you can guess who paid for the peaches.
CHAPTER IX
FISH-HOOKS AND HOOKY
After breakfast the next morning when Injun and Whitey came out of the ranch house, Whitey was heavy-hearted. The thought of going to that school at the Forks was the cause of his depression. It was like some sort of penalty one must pay for being a boy. Injun was to escort Whitey to the school, as an act of friendship—as one might go to another's funeral.