The last cows issued to the Injuns were no
good, an' the Injuns made a kick, an' the agent told them to go to the
deuce. Old Flatnose an' his son Moonface, the Apache chiefs, have always
been bad actors, an' now they are tryin' to scare up a muss."
"Reckon they'll do it?"
"The commandant at Fort Sill seems to think they will, for he's got two
companies out on the scout."
"The boys better look out, then. The Injuns don't like the gang over at
the Hole in the Wall none too good."
"We stand all right with Flatnose and his son, an' it's their band
that's actin' bad."
"Well, y'u better get a move on y'u. The moon will be down in an hour."
"Get the gal out, then, an' we'll be movin'."
"All right," said the guide, poking his head into the coach. "Here's
where you get out. Boss said to treat her well," he continued, turning
to the man with whom he had been talking.
"Oh, we'll do that, all right," was the reply.
Stella scrambled painfully out of the coach. All about her were mounted
men, both whites and Indians.
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