"Wonder if he wants to trade horses!" mused Auberry, chuckling. Then in
the same breath he called, "Look out! By God! Look!"
We all saw it. Orme's arm shot out straight, tipped by a blue puff of
smoke, and we heard the crack of the dragoon pistol. One of the Sioux,
the chief who by this time had mounted his horse, threw his hand against
his chest and leaned slightly back, then straightened up slightly as he
sat. As he fell, or before he fell, Orme pushed his body clear from the
saddle, and with a leap was in the dead man's place and riding swiftly
toward us, leading his own horse by the rein!
It seemed that it was the Sioux who had kept faith after all; for none
of the remaining three could find a weapon. Orme rode up laughing and
unconcerned. "The beggar wouldn't trade with me at all," he said. "By
Jove, I believe he'd have got me if he'd had any sort of tools for it."
"You broke treaty!" ejaculated Belknap--"you broke the council word."
"Did that man make the first break at you?" Auberry blazed at him.
"How can I tell?" answered Orme, coolly. "It's well to be a trifle ahead
in such matters." He seemed utterly unconcerned. He could kill a man as
lightly as a rabbit, and think no more about it.
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