minding her own
business. She looked up when they come and started to jaw Pete something
fierce; but the agent tells her the Gov'ment frowns on wives running
off, and Pete grabbed her; and the agent he helps, with her screeching
and biting and clawing like a female demon. The agent is going to see
that Pete has his rights, even if it don't seem like a joyous household;
and finally they get her scrambled onto Pete's horse in front of him and
off they go up the trail. The agent yells after 'em that Pete is to
remember that this is his regular wife and he'd better behave himself
from now on.

"And then about sunup next morning this agent is woke up by a pounding
on his door. He goes down and here's Pete clawed to a frazzle and
whimpering for the law's protection because his squaw has chased him
over the reservation all night trying to kill him. She'd near done it,
too. They say old Pete was so scared the agent had to soothe him like a
mother."

Uncle Abner paused to relight his pipe, meantime negotiating a doubly
vigilant survey of the distant road. But I considered that he had told
me nothing to the discredit of Pete, and now said as much.

"You couldn't blame the man for wanting his wife back, could you?" I
demanded. "Of course he might have been more tactful."

"Tactful's the word," agreed Uncle Abner cordially. "You see, this
wasn't Pete's wife at all. She was just a young squaw he'd took a fancy
to."

"Oh!" Nothing else seemed quite so fitting to say.

"'Nother time," resumed the honest blacksmith, "the Gov'ment at
Washington, D.C., sent out orders for all the Injun kids to be sent off
to school. Lots of the fathers made trouble about this, but Pete was the
worst of all--the old scoundrel! The agent said to him would Pete send
his kids peaceful; and Pete said not by no means. So the agent says in
that case they'll have to take 'em by force. Pete says he'll be right
there a-plenty when they're took by force. So next day the agent and his
helper go down to Pete's tepee. It's pitched up on a bank just off the
road and they's a low barrier of brush acrost the front of it. They look
close at this and see the muzzle of a rifle peeking down at 'em; also,
they can hear little scramblings and squealings of about a dozen or
fourteen kids in the tepee that was likely nestled up round the old
murderer like a bunch of young quail.

"Well, they was something kind of cold and cheerless about the muzzle of
this rifle poked t