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Updated: May 31, 2025
Good Indian glanced at him sharply. "Now, you fellows' listen to me," he said. "This thing is partly my fault. I could have prevented it, maybe, if I hadn't been so taken up with my own affairs. Old Peppajee told me Baumberger was up to some devilment when he first came down here. He heard him talking to Saunders in Pete Hamilton's stable.
Miss Georgie barely glanced at him from under her lashes, and her shoulders indulged themselves in an almost imperceptible twitch. "How do you do, Mr. Baumberger?" she responded coolly, and very, very gently pushed the door shut just as he had made up his mind to enter.
Bimeby eat supper," Peaceful invited pacifically, while Baumberger chuckled at the Indian's attitude, which he attributed to racial stupidity. Peppajee did not even indicate that he heard or, hearing, understood. "Bothered much with Injuns?" Baumberger asked carelessly, putting away his pipe. "I see there's quite a camp of 'em up on the hill. Hope you've got good watchdogs they're a thieving lot.
He lifted his hat, brushed the moisture from his forehead, and gave a grunt of disapproval when his eyes rested on Jack. "What yuh loaded down like that for?" he demanded. "You fellows better put those guns in cold storage. I'm like Baumberger in one respect we don't want any violence!" He grinned without any feeling of mirth.
"This," said Baumberger, a peculiar gleam coming into his leering, puffy-lidded eyes, and a certain hardness creeping into his voice, "this is a matter for your father and me to settle. It's just-a-bide-beyond you youngsters. This is a civil case. Don't foolishly make it come under the criminal code. But there!" His voice purred at them again. "You won't. You're all too clear-headed and sensible."
Baumberger" he saw Peppajee's eyelids draw together "tell men to go away. Tell Peaceful he fight those men in court. You sabe. Ask Great Father to tell those men they go away, no wash gold on ranch." He waited. There is no hurrying the speech of an Indian. Peppajee smoked stolidly, his eyes half closed and blinking sleepily.
Good Indian lifted the skirt of Evadna's side-saddle, and proceeded calmly to loosen the cinch. His forehead smoothed a trifle, as if that one sentence had relieved him of some of his bottled bitterness. "YOU ain't shrunk up none in your estimation," Baumberger forgot his pose of tolerant good nature to say.
She was a distressed Christmas angel, if ever there was one. Wally snorted. "Want us to go CRYING around because the row's over?" he demanded. "Think Grant ought to wear crepe, I suppose because he ain't on ice this morning or in jail, which he'd hate a lot worse. Think we ought to go around with our jaws hanging down so you could step on 'em, because Baumberger cashed in? Huh!
Since Pete looked upon Baumberger with something of the awed admiration which he would bestow upon the President, he felt convinced that his horses were to be congratulated that any one of them found favor in his eyes.
Baumberger sticks to him like a bur to a dog's tail. What are those fellows doing down there now? Does anybody know?" "You heard what he said to me just now," Phoebe said, impatiently. "He don't want anybody to go near. It's terribly aggravating," she confessed dispiritedly, "to have a lot of ruffians camped down, cool as you please, on your own ranch, and not be allowed to drive 'em off.
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