ister
girl. Bad. No good. All time heap mean. All time tellum heap big lie so
Indian no likeum. One time take monee, go 'way off. School for write. Come
back for fin' gol', make Jim tellum. Jim sick long time. Jim no tellum.
Jim all time mad for Lucy. Las' night--talk mean--mebby fight--Jim he die
quick. Lucy say killum me, I tell.

"Now me go my brother. Walk two day. Give you grub--no got many grub. You
takeum gol' you fin'. Me no care. No want. You don' give Lucy. Lucy bad
girl all time. No fin' gol'--Jim he no tellum. I dunno."

That left Casey exactly where he had been before he found Injun Jim. There
was no getting around it; the squaw repeated her statements twice, which
Casey thought was probably more talking that she had done before in the
course of six months. She impressed Casey as being truthful. She really
did not know any more about Injun Jim's mine than did Casey. Or perhaps a
little more, because she knew, poor thing, just how drunk Jim could get on
the whisky they gave him for the gold. He used to beat her terribly when
he came to camp drunk. Casey learned that much, though it didn't help him
any.

Hahnaga did not seem to think that anything need be done about the manner
of Jim's death. She said he was heap sick and would die anyway, or words--
not many--to that effect. Casey decided to go on and mind his own
business. He did not see why, he said, the county of Nye should be let in
for a lot of expense on Injun Jim's account, even if Jim had been killed.
And as for punishing Lucy Lily, he was perfectly willing that it should be
done, only he did not want to do it. I have always believed that Casey was
afraid she might possibly marry him in spite of himself if she were in his
immediate neighborhood long enough.

They made themselves each a small pack of food and what was more vital,
water, and went their different ways. Hahnaga struck off to the west, to
her brother at the end of Forty-Mile Canyon. At least, that was where she
said her brother mostly camped. Casey retraced his steps for the second
time to the camp of the tenderfeet. Loco Canyon, Casey calls the place,
claiming it by right of discovery.

Now I don't see, and possibly you won't see, either, what the devil's
lantern had to do with Casey's bad luck. Casey maintains rather stubbornly
that it had a great deal to do with it. First, he says, it got him all off
the trail following it, and was almost the death of him and William. Next,
he dec