"Peter won't thank me for dumping this on him!" On a leaf of his note-book he scribbled a few lines to his partner explaining the situation.
"You understand," he said to Alexander, "out of your credit for the black fox, John Gaviller must be paid what you owe him." Alexander nodded indifferently, mad to get away.
As Alexander's squaw was about to get in the dugout she paused on the stones and looked at Ambrose, her ugly, dark face working with emotion.
Her eyes were as piteous as a wounded animal's.

She flung up her hands in a gesture expressing her powerlessness to speak.
It seemed there was some gratitude in the family.

Moved by a sudden impulse she caught up Ambrose's hand and pressed it passionately to her lips.

The white man fell back astonished and abashed.

Alexander paid no attention at all.
In less than ten minutes after Ambrose had given them the dugout the distressed family pushed off for a new land.