chance! You may be put on the Committee on Indian Relations, and pick up
a few facts. Remember we want a firm policy; no more palaver about the
'Great Father' and no more blankets and guns! You know what we used to
say out West, 'The only "Good Indian" is a dead one.' So wade in, and
hear what the old plug hat has to say."

Peter permitted himself to be led to the group. Even at that moment he
remembered the figure of the Indian on the tomb at Ashley Grange, and
felt a slight flash of satisfaction over the superior height and bearing
of Gray Eagle.

"How!" said Gray Eagle. "How!" said the other four chiefs. "How!"
repeated Peter instinctively. At a gesture from Gray Eagle the
interpreter said: "Let your friend stand back; Gray Eagle has nothing to
say to him. He wishes to speak only with you."

Peter's friend reluctantly withdrew, but threw a cautioning glance
towards him. "Ugh!" said Gray Eagle. "Ugh!" said the other chiefs. A few
guttural words followed to the interpreter, who turned, and facing Peter
with the monotonous impassiveness which he had caught from the chiefs,
said: "He says he knew your father. He was a great chief,--with many
horses and many squaws. He is dead."

"My father was an Englishman,--Philip Atherly!" said Peter, with an odd
nervousness creeping over him.

The interpreter repeated the words to Grey Eagle, who, after a guttural
"Ugh!" answered in his own tongue.

"He says," continued the interpreter with a slight shrug, yet relapsing