- how, Scar Head did not feel quite happy. The
matter was settled too easily. In a few minutes the soldier would go; then all the Americans would be gone, and he himself would have lost them. In fact, he didn't seem to be getting much out of his scheme, except that he may have saved the soldier's scalp. Skidi would be angry, too, when he found out that the horse and soldier both had gone. Somebody would suffer—and Scar Head rather foresaw who that somebody might be! Skidi could make things very uncomfortable.
But before they were done eating, here came Skidi and several others, of the men, all furious.
"There is the horse," exclaimed Skidi. "And there is the red-haired white man. We are in time."
"What is all this shouting about?" reproved White Wolf. "This is no way to come to a chief's lodge."
"We come for a horse that has been stolen by that white man," Skidi boldly retorted. "There it is. We claim it."
"No. The horse belongs to the American chief. His soldier is here to get it. We talked about that yesterday. I will talk no more."
"I will talk, for I am a man," answered Skidi. "You let the white man eat at your fire and sleep in your lodge, and during the night he steals a horse.
