oked up at him as much as
to say, "Nothing."

CHAPTER VIII

INJUN TALKS

That night, in the bunk house, Bill Jordan was holding forth to a select
few--Jim Walker, Charlie Bassett, Buck Higgins, and Shorty Palmer; all
old friends and true, who could dispute and quarrel with one another
without the serious results that would have attended such action on the
part of strangers.

"Talkin' 'bout Injuns," said Bill, "all I don't know 'bout 'em you c'd
write on a hummin'-bird's finger-nail."

"Hummin'-birds don't have no finger-nails," corrected Shorty Palmer.

"Sure they don't," allowed Bill. "But you c'd write it on one if they
did."

"They has claws," persisted Shorty. "B'sides, no hummin'-bird ain't
goin' t' stay still long enough for you to write on his claw."

"I know that, too," said Bill. "That thing I was sayin' is what's called
a figger o' speech. Same as 'independent as a hog on ice,' or 'dead as
a door nail.' Ev'body knows them things ain't independent or dead. It's
just a fancy way o' expressin' yourself. Can't you give a feller credit
for no 'magination?"

"Oh, you got 'magination all right," Shorty agreed. "You ain't in no
ways hampered by facts. But, anyway, we wasn't talkin' 'bout Injuns."

"No, but we was goin' to," retorted Bill, "for I was about t' d'rect th'
conversation in them channels when you makes them ign'rant
interruptions."

"Oh, go on an' talk, Bill," Jim Walker broke in. "Don't pertend that
Shorty, nor th' whole United States Army, c'd stop you if you wanted t'
chin."

Thus urged Bill began his discourse. "What started my mind workin' on
this here Injun question was somethin' that come up to-day," he said.
"John Big Moose bein' gone, you know, Mr. Sherwood writes me that Injun
an' Whitey is t' go to school over to th' Forks. So on my way back from
drivin' John t' th' Junction I stops at that there temple o' knowledge,
as th' feller says, t' prepare th' mind o' Jennie Adams, what teaches
there, for th' comin' of this bunch of new scholards.

"Y' all know Jennie, old Hog Adams's daughter. Th' one with th' wart on
her chin, that was engaged for matrimoney to Sid Gilman till one day
they was ridin' t'gether, an' Sid's cayuse slips into a gopher hole, an'
Sid falls off an' sprains his ankle, an' lets loose such a string o'
cuss words that Jennie--"

"Say, Bill," protested Buck Higgins, "'f you couldn't shoot no
straighter'n you c'n talk you'd be a mighty poor risk for a insur