"Yes, it seems to be all right," he mumbled, mopping his forehead with a gay silk handkerchief. "Seems to be all right."
And in his heart he cursed the blunderers. "I'll send some of my men up to fetch it down for you," he added.
"I'd never forgive myself if I took any more advantage of your neighborly kindness," earnestly declared Bridger. "Lander 'n' me will work it down. I'll give you the order at the fort."
"Come, come, Mr. Bridger. Never do work you don't need to. It's a bad example for the engagés and Indians," McKenzie protested with some asperity. "And you have your horses to take care of."
"Here comes one of your musicians, riding like the thunder!" exclaimed Lander, recognizing the drummer.
The horseman came up at a gallop, and, yanking his blown mount to its haunches, excitedly cried out: "Th' Deschamps gang has murdered Mr. Phinny. One of Gauche's men found him stabbed to death half a mile from th' Assiniboin camp. Th' Injun read th' trail an' says he found tracks of a Injun woman's moccasins."
While McKenzie remained speechless with
