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Good Indian stood upon the porch, and heard every word of that He heard also the shuffle of feet as Miss Georgie urged Evadna to her rooed her there by force--and he rolled a cigarette with fingers that did not so much as quiver He scratched a match upon the nearest post, and afterward leaned there and slowing yellow in the sunlight His face was set and expressionless except that it was stoically callitter deep down in his eyes Evadna was right, to a certain extent the Indian in hiht to pick up Bauer, and put him somewhere, but he did not arden, he thought He glanced up at the tops of the nodding poplars, and esti it would be before sundown, and as idly wondered if Stanley and the others would go, or stay There was nothing they could gain by staying, he kne that Bauot stubborn and wanted to fight In that case, he supposed he would eventually be planted alongside his father He wished he could keep the boys and old Peaceful out of it, in case there was a fight, but he knew that would be i like this ever since the trouble started

Good Indian had, not so long ago, spent hours in avoiding all thought that heNow he had reversed the desire He was thinking of this thing and of that, si If so to feel so that would hurt him more than he had been hurt since his father died in that same house But in the rove, with the long fingers of the poplars to point the way, cliarette while he watched it When a certain great bowlder that was like a lowed rosily and then slowly darkened to a chill gray, he threw his cigarette stub unerringly at a lily-pad which had courtesied many a time before to a like missile from his hand, pulled his hat down over his eyes, juate which led to the stable