Fort, as well as the men, began offering household goods or personal
gear; a frying pan against a baby-bag, a pair of corsets against a
medicine flute, a bureau against a war bonnet. Then, bitten by the
craze, they kept on till everything was matched and all the goods tied
up in bundles, according to the established custom, to lie in the big,
special tepee under guard.

Another band of Red men followed with some tepees that they offered
against government tents and, on being refused, finally wagered them
against provender and hay. Each day there were new offers as groups of
Indians came to the Fort, so that as soon as an Indian outfit on wheels
came slowly up, it was quite understood that it was bringing new
material to put up on the race. It was toward the end of the time that
Red Cloud and his retinue came again, riding in much solemnity. Ignoring
all others, he went to Colonel Waller's house and, in his usual
deliberate way, after smoking, he began:

"Maybe so, you bet big?"

"Yes, indeed," was Waller's answer.

"Good. We bet all Dakota. You bet United States. Maybe so--yes?"

"No, no," laughed the Colonel.

"You win, we go away out west. We win, you all go back east. Maybe
so--yes?"

"No," said the Colonel. "I am only a little chief. The Great High Chief,
Unca-Sam, would not allow it."

Red Cloud smoked a while, then resumed:

"Heap afraid, maybe so?" Then, after a pause, "We bet Pine Ridge, you
bet Fort Ryan--yes?"

Again the Colonel had to protest that only the Great Father Unca-Sam
could deal in such matters; and Red Cloud grunted, "Heap scared," made a
gesture of impatience, and rode away.

CHAPTER XXXIX

Jim's Bet

Jim Hartigan had as little interest in money as any Indian. All the
things he loved and the pleasures he sought were the things that money
could not buy. He wanted to ride and race, be alive, to love and be
loved, to get the noblest animal joys, and soar a little--just a
little--in the realm of higher things. Money as a power had not been
listed in his mind, till a chance remark from Belle gave a wholly
different trend to his thoughts.

"Jim, if I had about a thousand dollars, I think I'd be tempted to risk
it. I'd go to Deadwood and start a produce commission business there."

That was all she said, and it was spoken lightly, but her words sank
deep in Hartigan's mind.

"A thousand dollars might, after all, spell heaven"; and he pondered it
long and hard. As mere busin