'N' if you don't do it I'll go out there m'self 'n' choke the dang skunk t' death!" "I'll kill him--don't worry about that," Lite promised--and the look in his eyes told them that the Indian was doomed at the first sign of treachery.
"You fellers wanta keep an eye peeled fer them in the grove," Applehead warned.

"We ain't goin' t' give 'em no chanst t' sneak up 'n' skulp us whilst we're watchin' Luck 'n' his dang-fool pow-wowin' out there in the middle." "Aw, gwan! They wouldn't DAST skelp white folks!" There was a wail in the voice of Happy Jack.
"They dast if they git the chanst," Applehead retorted fretfully.

"'N' if you don't wanta loose that there red mop uh yourn ye better keep yer eyes open, now I'm tellin' yuh!" He refilled his rifle magazine and took up his station beside Lite Avery where he could watch the Frying-pan through the bushes without exposing himself to a treacherous shot from the rim-rock.
At the foot of the sandstone ledge the Indian stood with his bright red blanket wrapped around him watching Luck.

On his own side Luck stood just clear of the rock huddle and watched the Indian.

Presently he of the red blanket lifted his hand in the gesture of peace, and started deliberately out across the bare little basin.