I dunno." That left Casey exactly where he had been before he found Injun Jim.

There was no getting around it; the squaw repeated her statements twice, which Casey thought was probably more talking that she had done before in the course of six months.

She impressed Casey as being truthful.

She really did not know any more about Injun Jim's mine than did Casey.

Or perhaps a little more, because she knew, poor thing, just how drunk Jim could get on the whisky they gave him for the gold.