I had never seen a chinook wind before, of course, but Tom Carr had told me about them. This one was a strong, steady wind sweeping all day and all night straight from the northwest, and seemed to blow right through the drifts. I had rather have seen the snow going in any other way, because I knew this wind only followed the valley of the Missouri River and I was afraid that it did not reach far enough east to thaw out the cuts on the railroad so that the longed-for train could get through. But on the other hand it of course covered all of the country between Track's End and the outlaws' headquarters, and I knew that there was now nothing to hinder their coming; and I was afraid that if they did come I could not keep them off. This day the Indian came out for the first time. I tried to talk with him some more, but could not get much out of him. He cast some very black looks at me, as I supposed for my taking away the gun and, more important, probably, knocking the spigot off of that barrel. This night I felt sure the outlaws would come again, and I did not go to bed at all. I stayed all night in Townsend's store, thinking to give them as warm a reception as I could. The next morning, the 18th, the chinook had stopped, but it was still thawing, though not so fast. There was scarcely any wind, but the sun was warm. I tried to take a nap after dinner, but I was too nervous. The prairie was half bare. The little drifts were all gone and the big ones had shrunk to little ones. There was a good deal of snow in the street yet, but it would be easy to ride through it. I walked about all day trying to think of what was best to do. I knew that I could not keep awake another night. At last I decided to try putting the Indian on guard part of the night. He had said (I thought that was what he meant) that the outlaws had stolen ponies from his tribe, and I concluded he could have no love for them, even if he had none for me. I found him in the store, but he was still sullen about the spigot. "Want you to watch to-night for robbers," I said to him. He only looked at me, so I repeated it, and added: "I will give you rifle, shoot if they come." At this he grunted and said, "All right." He waited a moment and seemed to be thinking; then suddenly he raised his left hand tightly shut above his head, looked at it with half-closed eyes, and said, "Ugh! scalp 'em!" It made my blood run cold to see that big savage standing there within arm's-length gloating over an imaginary scalp, knowing as I did that he would probably enjoy scalping me quite as much. But I said nothing except to make him understand that he could go to bed if he wanted to, and I would wake him when it was time. I thought I would stay up as long as I could myself.