"The what?" asked Shad.
"Th' ghosts or spirits they thinks is there. They's wonderful easy scairt, Injuns is. Oh, I knows th' Injuns; I been havin' trouble with un before."
"When was you havin' trouble with Injuns, now?" asked d**k sceptically.
"More'n once," said Ed. "There were th' time, now, I comes t' my tilt an' finds a hull passel o' Mountaineers--they wan't friendly in them days, th' Bay Mountaineers wan 't--so many they eats up a hull barrel o' my flour t' one meal--"
"Now, Ed," broke in d**k, in evident disgust, "you been tellin' that yarn so many times you believes un yourself. Now, don't tell un ag'in."
"'Tis gospel truth--" Ed began.
"'Tis no kind o' truth."
"Well, an' you don't want t' hear un, I won't tell un," said Ed, with an air of injured innocence.
"'What was it,
