"
"Did ye knock any redskins over?" This question was artfully put to
draw Joe out. Above all things, the bordermen detested boastfulness;
tried on Joe the ruse failed signally.
"I was scared speechless most of the time," answered Joe, with his
pleasant smile.
"By gosh, I don't blame ye!" burst out Will Metzar. "I hed that
experience onct, an' onct's enough."
The boys laughed and looked in a more friendly manner at Joe. Though
he said he had been frightened, his cool and careless manner belied
his words. In Joe's low voice and clear, gray eye there was
something potent and magnetic, which subtly influenced those with
whom he came in contact.
While his new friends were at dinner Joe strolled over to where
Colonel Zane sat on the doorstep of his home.
"How did you get on with the boys?" inquired the colonel.
"All right, I hope. Say, Colonel Zane, I'd like to talk to your
Indian guide."
Colonel Zane spoke a few words in the Indian language to the guide,
who left his post and came over to them. The colonel then had a
short conversation with him, at the conclusion of which he pointed
toward Joe.
"How do--shake," said Tome, extending his hand.
Joe smiled, and returned the friendly hand-pressure.
"Shawnee--ketch'um?" asked the Indian, in his fairly intelligible
English.
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