he says somethin'?"

There was no disputing this, and the men looked solemn as they
considered the series of great tragedies and the chain of circumstances
which had led up to them. Then, as the impression made on Bill Jordan
began to fade, and thoughts of his own importance to take its place, he
turned triumphantly to Jim Walker.

"Well, did I make Injun talk, an' do we get them peaches?" Bill
demanded.

"_You_ make him talk!" Jim returned scornfully. "All you did was t' make
him shut up. Whitey made him talk."

"G'wan," Bill retorted. "Didn't them suggestions o' mine 'bout white men
an' Injuns start him thinkin' 'bout that bad White Chief hombre? An'
didn't I get rid o' Henry Dorgan, 'cause Injun's distrustful of him, an'
wouldn't chin with him 'round?"

"'F y'ask for my opinion, I don't b'lieve none o' you made him talk,"
said Shorty Palmer. "I think he just--"

"I didn't ask for your opinion," Bill interrupted. "No feller c'n tell
me nothin' 'bout Injuns--"

But if this bunk house argument were followed to its end I should have
to write another book. Perhaps you can guess who paid for the peaches.