The man fell.
A scout was dispatched to scalp and search the body. He presently
returned.
"Who was the pale face?" eagerly asked the chief.
"A life insurance agent."
A dark scowl settled on the face of the chief.
"I thought it was a book-peddler."
"Why is my brother's heart sore against the book-peddler?" asked
Mushymush.
"Because," said the Boy Chief, fiercely, "I am again without my
regular dime novel, and I thought he might have one in his pack.
Hear me, Mushymush; the United States mails no longer bring me my
'Young America,' or my 'Boys' and Girls' Weekly.' I find it
impossible, even with my fastest scouts, to keep up with the rear
of General Howard, and replenish my literature from the sutler's
wagon. Without a dime novel or a 'Young America,' how am I to keep
up this Injin business?"
Mushymush remained in meditation a single moment. Then she looked
up proudly.
"My brother has spoken. It is well. He shall have his dime novel.
He shall know what kind of a hair-pin his sister Mushymush is."
And she arose and gamboled lightly as the fawn out of his presence.
Pages:
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187