"But if them Injuns are comin’ I shore wish they ’d hurry up an’ do it," asserted Dad. "I ought to ’a’ been home three days ago." "Wish to G—d you was!" came from the floor. Bill tossed away his half-smoked cigarette, Carter promptly plunging into the sugar barrel after it. "They ain’t comin’," Bill asserted. "Every time some drunk Injun gets in a fight or beats his squaw th’ rumor starts. An’ by th’ time it gets to us it says that all th’ Apaches are out follerin’ old Geronimo on th’ war trail. He can be more places at once than anybody _I_ ever heard of. I ’m ridin’ on tomorrow morning, ’Paches or no ’Paches." "Good!" exclaimed Jimmy, glancing at Carter. "I ’ll have this here carving all done by then." There was a sudden scrambling and thumping overhead and hot exclamations zephyred down to them. Carter dashed to the door, while the others reached for rifles and began to take up positions. "See ’em, Hank?" cried Carter anxiously. "See what?" came a growl from above. "Injuns, of course, you d—d fool!" "Naw," snorted Hank. "There ain’t no Injuns out at all, not after Jimmy got that one." "Then what’s th’ matter?" "My dawg’s lickin’ yore dawg. _Sic_ him, Pete! Hi, there! Don’t you run!" "My dawg still gettin’ licked?" grinned Carter. "I ’ll swap you," offered Hank promptly. "Mine can lick yourn, anyhow." "In a race, mebby." "H—l!" growled Hank, cautiously separating himself from a patch of hot resin that had exuded generously from a pine knot. "I ’m purty nigh cooked an’ I ’m comin’ down, Injuns or no Injuns. If they was comin’ this way they’d ’a’ been here long afore this." "But that Pawnee told Price they was out," objected Carter. "Cassidy heard th’ same thing, too. An’ didn’t Jimmy get one!" he finished triumphantly. "Th’ Pawnee was drunk!" retorted Hank, collecting splinters as he slipped a little down the roof. "Great Mavericks! This here is awful!" He grabbed a protruding nail and checked himself. "Price might ’a’ shot a ’Pache, or he might not. I don’t take him serious no more. An’ that feller Cassidy can’t help what scared folks tells him. Sufferin’ _toads_, what a roof!" Carter turned and looked back in the store. "Jimmy, you shore they are out? An’ _will_ you quit cuttin’ that counter!" Jimmy slid off the counter and closed the knife. "That’s what th’ Pawnee said. When I told you fellers about it, you was so plumb anxious to fight, an’ eager to interrupt an’ ask fool questions that I shore hated to spoil it all. What that scout says was that th’ ’Paches was out raidin’ down Colby way, an’ was headin’ south when last re—"