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Updated: May 12, 2025
He sought a sagebrush that suited his purpose, tied his horse to it, stooped, and took the clanking Mexican spurs from his heels, and touched Peppajee on the shoulder. "All right," he murmured close to his ear, "we go see." Without a word, Peppajee turned, and stole away toward the meadows, keeping always in the shadow of rock or bush, silent-footed as a prowling bobcat.
Peppajee eyed him comprehendingly, but there was no yielding in his brown, wrinkled face. "Yo' Rachel's frien', yo' pikeway," he insisted doggedly. From under the wall of the wikiup close to Good Indian on the side farthest from Peppajee, a small, leafless branch of sage was thrust out, and waggled cautiously, scraping gently his hand.
Me no sabe why him walk, walk in night me heap watchum." "You mean Baumberger? He's all right. He comes down here to catchum many fish trout, up in the Malad, you sabe. Heap friend Peaceful. You no likum?" "Kay bueno." Peppajee rested a forefinger upon Good Indian's arm. "Sun up there," he pointed high in the west. "Me go all same Hartley. Come stable Pete stable me walkum close no makum noise.
What for you all time watchum Baumberger?" he added, remembering then what had brought them both upon the bluff. "Baumberger all time fish no more." He waved his hand toward the Malad. "Baumberger bueno catchum fish no more." Peppajee got slowly and painfully upon his feet rather, upon one foot. When Good Indian held out a steadying arm, he accepted it, and leaned rather heavily.
"Better come and eat, Peppajee," Peaceful lingered upon the porch to urge hospitably. "You no get mad. You come eat supper." "No!" Peppajee jerked the word out with unmistakable finality. "No eat. Bimeby mebbyso makum big talk yo'." Peaceful studied his face, found it stern and unyielding, and nodded assent. "All right. I eat, then I talk with you."
On the other hand, Peppajee loved to play the oracle, and a waving wisp of smoke, or the changing shapes in a wind-riven cloud meant to him spirit-sent prophecies not to be ignored.
"It wasn't even common humanity, then " "Not even common humanity," he echoed affirmatively. "Just a chance I couldn't afford to pass up, of digging into Peppajee." "That's different." She laughed shortly and left him, running swiftly through the warm dusk to the murmur of voices at the house.
Me no sabe catchum ranch all same, me watchum. Them mans heap kay bueno. Yo' bet yo' life!" A moment he stood there after he was through speaking, and then he was not there. Good Indian did not hear him go, though he had stood beside him; neither could he, catching sight of a wavering shadow, say positively that there went Peppajee.
But Peppajee gave no sign that he either heard the sound or saw the challenge in Good Indian's eyes. "I Rachel's friend," he said, speaking distinctly with his face half turned toward the wall of deerskin. "I want to tell Rachel what the sheriff said. I want to thank Rachel, and tell her I'm her friend. I don't want to bring trouble." He stopped and listened, but there was no sound within.
"Well but we mustn't let ourselves get excited," soothed Baumberger, the shadow of him falling darkly upon Peaceful and Phoebe as he strode along, upon the side next the sun. Peppajee would have called that an evil thing, portending much trouble and black treachery. "That's where people always blunder in a thing like this. A little cool-headedness goes farther than hard words or lead.
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