I thought you had killed him just to be mean, to hurt me.

I will try to make amends.

If you will come into the house I will dress your arm--it must be badly injured." Calumet's lips curled, then straightened, and he looked down at her with steady hostility.
"I ain't got no truck with you at all," he said.

"When I'm figgerin' on lettin' you paw over me I'll let you know." He turned shortly and walked over to the door of the stable, where he fumbled at the fastenings, presently swinging the door open and vanishing inside.
Five minutes later, when he came out with the pony saddled and bridled, he found that Betty and Malcolm had gone.

But Bob stood over the dead body of Lonesome, silently weeping.
For a moment, standing beside his pony, Calumet watched the boy, and as he stood a queer pallor overspread his face and his lips tightened oddly.