e us all this bother to git
his scalp."

"Who was he?"

"Don't know. He was a good hundred and fifty yards away and going like a
streak when I plugged him. It's too dark down in the hole to see
anything."

"For all you know he was a friendly."

"We never see no friendlies," Hacker grimly reminded.

"'Cept when they're dead," ironically added Scott. "Our eyesight's
terribly poor when they're alive."

"I call it dirty business. I wouldn't have hauled on the rope if I had
known."

Runner lowered at me and growled:

"You're too finicky. A' Injun is a' Injun. Sooner they're all dead, the
better. I kill 'em quicker'n I would a rattlesnake. A rattler gives notice
when he's going to strike."

"If you've killed a friendly this work will cause much suffering among the
outlying cabins."

"Bah! If we took good corn cakes and honey to the red devils they'd kill
us every chance they got. We ain't forgitting what happened at Keeney's
Knob, at the Clendennin farm on the Greenbriar; nor the scores of killings
up in Tygart's Valley, and in other places. Give 'em the pewter every
chance you can! That's my religion."

"That's the talk, Lige!" cried Scott. "Ike Crabtree would 'a' liked to
been in this fun."

"He'll feel cut up when he hears about our luck," said Hacker.

"Crabtree's feelings do him credit," added Runner. "But his natural
hankering to raise hair is stronger'n his courage when he thinks there's
more'n one Injun to dicker with. Young Shelby Cousin would be the best one
for this business if it wa'n't for his fool notions about killing near a
settlement."

"Cousin says you killed old Bald Eagle. I saw the Delaware floating down
the Cheat in his canoe."

Runner laughed in huge delight, and cried:

"The world's mighty small after all. Ain't it the truth! So you seen him?
Did he have the chunk of johnny-cake in his meat-trap?"

"He was friendly to the whites and harmless. It was a poor piece of
work."

"The reason why we didn't sculp him was that it would 'a' spoiled the
joke," defended Hacker. "With his hair on and the johnny-cake in his
mouth, folks would think he was still alive till they got real close."

"The three of us done that," informed Scott, as though jealous of Runner's
receiving all the credit.

"Morris means it was a poor job because the chief was said to be friendly
to white folks," explained Runner, scowling at me.

"Morris, you'd better go up to David's and tell Ike Crabtree that," jee