"D'ye mean to say"--it was wonderful how gratuitously husky his voice
became at this moment--"d'ye mean ter tell me ye didn't set on them
Injins to wipe out the Silsbees, so that ye could hev an out-an'-out gal
ORFEN on hand fer Mrs. Peyton ter adopt--eh?"

But here Clarence was forced to protest, and strongly, although Jim
contemptuously ignored it. "Don't lie ter me," he repeated mysteriously,
"I'm fly. I'm dark, young fel. We're cahoots in this thing?" And with
this artful suggestion of being in possession of Clarence's guilty
secret he departed in time to elude the usual objurgation of his
superior, "Phil," the head teamster.

Nor was his baleful fascination exercised entirely on Clarence. In
spite of Mrs. Peyton's jealously affectionate care, Clarence's frequent
companionship, and the little circle of admiring courtiers that always
surrounded Susy, it became evident that this small Eve had been secretly
approached and tempted by the Satanic Jim. She was found one day to
have a few heron's feathers in her possession with which she adorned her
curls, and at another time was discovered to have rubbed her face and
arms with yellow and red ochre, confessedly the free gift of Jim Hooker.
It was to Clarence alone that she admitted the significance and purport
of these offerings. "Jim gived 'em to me," she said, "and Jim's a kind
of Injin hisself that won't hurt me; and when bad Injins come, they'll
think I'm his Injin baby and run away. And Jim said if I'd just told the
Injins when they came to kill papa and mamma, that I b'longed to him,
they'd hev runned away."

"But," said the practical Clarence, "you could not; you know you were
with Mrs. Peyton all the time."