"
I tried to look as if this were a bit of stale gossip.
"Then whites raise hell to say Pete he do same. What you know about
that? My old b'other-in-law send word he do same--twenty, fifty Injin
witness tell he said so--and now he gon' hide far off. Dep'ty sheriff
can't find him. That son-of-gun come back next year, raise big fight
over one span mules with Injin named Walter that steal my mules out of
pasture; and Walter not get well from it--so whites say yes, old Pete
done that same killing scrape to have his mules again; plain as the nose
on the face old Pete do same. But I catch plenty Injin witness see my
b'other-in-law do same, and I think they can't catch him another time
once more, because they look in all places he ain't. I think plenty too
much trouble he make all time for me--perform something not nice and get
found out about it; and all people say, Oh, yes--that old Pete he's at
tricks again; he better get sent to Walla Walla, learn some good trade
in prison for eighteen years. That b'other-in-law cap the climax! He
know all good place to hide from dep'ty sheriff, so not be found when
badly wanted--the son-of-gun!"
Pete's face now told that, despite the proper loathing inspired by his
misdeeds, this brother-in-law compelled a certain horrid admiration for
his gift of elusiveness.
Pages:
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393
394
395
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406
407
408
409
410