-owl--huh! You said when you
left it was an Indian--and that's why we didn't take after it ourselves.
We don't want to get the whole bunch down on us like they are on
you--and if there was one acting up around here, we knew blamed well it
was on your account for what happened to-day. I guess you found out, all
right. I knew the minute you heaved in sight that you was just about as
mad as you can get--and that's saying a whole lot. If it WAS an Indian,
and you killed him, you better let us--"

"Oh, for the lord's sake, WILL YOU SHUT UP!" Grant raised to an elbow,
glared a moment, and lay down again.

The result proved the sort of fellow he was. Clark shut up without even
trailing off into mumbling to himself, as was his habit when argument
brought him defeat.

CHAPTER VII. MISS GEORGIE HOWARD, OPERATOR

"Where is the delightful Mr. Good Indian off to?" Evadna stopped
drumming upon the gatepost and turned toward the person she heard coming
up behind her, who happened to be Gene. He stopped to light a match
upon the gate and put his cigarette to work before he answered her; and
Evadna touched tentatively the wide, blue ribbon wound round her arm and
tied in a bow at her elbow, and eyed him guardedly.

"Straight up, he told me," Gene answered sourly. "He's sore over
something that happened last night, and he didn't seem to have any talk
to give away this morning. He can go to the dickens, for all I care."

"WHAT--happened last night?" Evadna wore her Christmas-angel expression;
and her tone was the sweet, insipid tone of childlike innocence.

Gene hesitated. It seemed a sheer waste of opportunity to tell her the
truth when she would believe a falsehood just as readily; but, since the
truth happened to be quite as improbable as a lie, he decided to speak
it.

"There was a noise when the moon had just come up--didn't you hear it?
The ghost I told you about. Good Injun went after it with a gun, and I
guess they mixed, all right, and he got the worst of it. He was sure on
the fight when he came back, and he's pulled out this morning--"

"Do you mean to tell me--did you see it, really?"

"Well, you ask Clark, when you see him," Gene hinted darkly. "You just
ask him what was in the grove last night. Ask him what he HEARD." He
moved closer, and laid his hand impressively upon her arm. Evadna winced
perceptibly. "What yuh jumping for? You didn't see anything, did you?"

"No; but--was there REALLY something?" Evadna