gets somewheres when he does."

Bill tried to look as though he hadn't heard this, and turned to Injun,
with what was supposed to be an expression of brotherly frankness on his
face. "Just among friends, Injun, d'ye think white folks as a class
stacks up perty good?"

Injun stared at Bill. "Huh," he grunted. "Mebbe some good, mebbe some
bad."

"O' course," said Bill, "they's good an' bad 'mongst 'em, but I mean t'
stack 'em up against Injuns, as a whole tribe, see?"

"Injuns same way. Mebbe some good, mebbe some bad."

This did not seem to be getting anywhere, and Bill became more personal.
"Now, Injun, honest," he said, "don't you think your people are
underdogs in these here conditions the whites have forced 'em into, an'
that they got a constant grouch against most whites?"

"My people good people. Him see straight," Injun replied, with dignity.

Bill was sorry now that he had started on this line of attack. He knew
that the Min-i-ko-wo-ju tribe, a branch of the Sioux or Dakotas, of
which Injun was a member, had been treated very fairly by Mr. Sherwood,
Whitey's father. That largely through the influence of Mr. Sherwood,
aided and abetted by John Big Moose, the educated Dakota, the
Min-i-ko-wo-jus had come in for their share of the recently discovered
gold mine. He also knew that gratitude was a strong factor in the Indian
character.