Hatchett took no offense, but the grimness of his long, sombre countenance remained unbroken.

A day or two later he discovered Hatchett in the act of giving an old, white-haired, half-breed cripple a bag of supplies.

Hatchett shook himself, as if caught in an act of crime.
"I'm going to kill that old Dog Rib soon as the ground's soft enough to dig a grave," he declared, shaking a fist fiercely after the old Indian.
"Beggar.

A sneak.

No good.