pantomime of the Indian. He crept
up the gulch to a point where it turned sharply. His stealth became the
stealth of the coyote. In spite of the leather soles and exaggerated high
heels of the boots he wore his movements were absolutely noiseless.

An Indian of middle age, in blue overalls, moccasins, a limp felt hat
coming far down over his braided hair, a gaily striped blanket drawn about
his shoulders, stood in an attitude of listening, carelessly holding a
cheap, single-barrelled shotgun. He had heard the horse sliding down the
trail and was waiting for it to appear on the bench above.

The stranger took in the details of the Indian's costume, but his eye
rested longest upon the gay blanket. He might need a blanket with that
snow in the air. It looked like a good blanket. It seemed to be thick and
was undoubtedly warm.

The Indian saw him the instant he rose from his hiding-place behind a huge
sage-brush. Startled, the red man instinctively half raised his gun. The
stranger gave the sign of attention, then, touching his breast and lifting
his hand slightly, told him in the sign language used by all tribes that
"his heart was right"--he was a friend.

The Indian hesitated and lowered his gun, but did not advance. The
stranger then asked him where he would find the nearest house, and whether
it was that of a white or a red man. In swift pantomime, the Indian told
him that the nearest house was the home of a "full-blood," a woman, a fat
woman, who lived five miles to the southeast, in a log cabin, on running
water.

Before he turned to go, the stranger again touched his breast and raised
his hand above his heart to reiterate his friendship. He took a half-dozen
steps, then whirled on his heel. As he did so, he brought his rifle on a
line with the Indian's back, which was toward him. Simultaneously with the
report, the Indian fell on his back on the side of the gulch. He drew up
his leg, and the stranger, thinking he had raised it for a gun-rest,
riddled him with bullets.

The white man's bright blue eyes gleamed; the pupils were like pin-points.
The grin which disclosed his protruding teeth was like the snarl of a dog
before it snaps. The expression of the man's face was that of animal
ferocity, pure and simple. He edged up cautiously, but there was no
further movement from the Indian. He had been dead when he fell. The white
man gave a short laugh when he realized that the raising of the leg had
been only a mus