can
locate of our preparations they'll find all they need. They'll get an
elegant tale to hand Louis Creal when they get back."

Five minutes later the capacity of the hut was taxed to its utmost.
Kars was seated on the side of his bed. Bill and Abe Dodds occupied
the other. The earth floor, from the foot of the bunks to the door,
was littered by a group of squatting figures clad in buckskin and
cotton blanket, and exhaling an aroma without which no Indian council
chamber is complete, and which is as offensive as it is pungent.
Peigan Charley, the contemptuous, blocked up the doorway ready at a
moment's notice to carry out any orders his "boss" might choose to give
him, and living in the hopes that such orders, when they came, might at
least demand violence towards these "damn neches" who had dared to
invade the camp.

But his hopes were destined to remain unfulfilled. His boss was
talking easily, and in a friendliness which disgusted his retainer. He
seemed to be even deferring to this aged scallawag of a chief, as
though he were some one of importance. That was one of Charley's
greatest grievances against his chief. He was always too easy with
"damn-fool neches." Charley felt that these miserable creatures should
be "all shot up dead." Worse would come if these "coyotes" were
allowed to go free. There was no such thing as murder in his mind as
regards his own race. Only killing--which was, at all times, not only
justifiable, but a necessity.

"The great Chief Thunder-Cloud is very welcome," Kars responded to the
interpreter's translation of the introduction. "Guess he's the big
chief of Bell River. The wise man of his people. And I'm sure he's
come right along to talk--in the interests of peace. Good. We're
right here for peace, too. Maybe Thunder-Cloud's had a look at the
camp as he came in. It's a peaceful camp, just set right here to chase
gold. No doubt his people, who've been around since we came, have told
him that way, too."

As the white man's words were translated to him, the old Indian blinked
his inflamed eyes, from which the lids and under-lids seemed to be
falling away as a result of his extreme age. He wagged his head gently
as though fearful of too great effort, and his sagging lips made a
movement suggesting an approving expression, but failed physically to
carry out his intent.

Bill was studying that senile, expressionless face. The skin hung
loose and was scored with cre