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Grey, Zane, 1872-1939

"The Spirit of the Border"


"White Chief is idle to-day," said Half King, speaking in the Indian
tongue.
"King, I am waiting. Girty is slow, but sure," answered the
renegade.
"The eagle sails slowly round and round, up and up," replied Half
King, with majestic gestures, "until his eye sees all, until he
knows his time; then he folds his wings and swoops down from the
blue sky like the forked fire. So does White Chief. But Half King is
impatient."
"To-day decides the fate of the Village of Peace," answered Girty,
imperturbably.
"Ugh!" grunted Pipe.
Half King vented his approval in the same meaning exclamation.
An hour passed; the renegade smoked in silence; the chiefs did
likewise.
A horseman rode up to the door of the teepee, dismounted, and came
in. It was Elliott. He had been absent twenty hours. His buckskin
suit showed the effect of hard riding through the thickets.
"Hullo, Bill, any sign of Jim?" was Girty's greeting to his
lieutenant.
"Nary. He's not been seen near the Delaware camp. He's after that
chap who married Winds."
"I thought so. Jim's roundin' up a tenderfoot who will be a bad man
to handle if he has half a chance. I saw as much the day he took his
horse away from Silver. He finally did fer the Shawnee, an' almost
put Jim out. My brother oughtn't to give rein to personal revenge at
a time like this.


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