“Still, Satan mischief always finds for idle hands to do.  After about five days of loafin’ I turned the conversation to the uncertainty of things in general; we talked a good deal about it.  I gradual come to particulars, and producin’ a pack of playin’-cards, proceeded to show Percival how odd five of ’em dealt at a time would come out.  He was interested, and I suggested that he sh’d take five, too, and he did; and the first thing you know I had everything that Percival owned, owin’ to his misjudging the way them cards would fall.  Then we divided again and went at it.  At the end of the next week I was proud of Percival.  He fronted me out of a plump jackpot without a tremble of a gray whisker, but, to save me, I couldn’t get him to play cards.  He said it was wicked and led to gamblin’—­I dunno but what he’s right at that.  We had lots of fun with the Uncertainty of Things, anyhow, and saved our morals.

“At the end of three weeks us two was twin brothers.  Old Percy told me in confidence he hadn’t had a real friend for years before.  And I liked him, you bet.  We all has got our faults—­why, even Mrs. Scraggs isn’t free from ’em—­but you scratch them off the top of Percival and you found a white man—­the most trusting little critter in God and man, the kindest-hearted and the best-natured that ever lived.  Honest, I couldn’t sleep nights sometimes, thinking of the lies I told him, and if I’d never slept I couldn’t ‘a’ quit—­it was like leaving a starvin’ nigger in charge of a hencoop.

“So things ambled along—­not a jar.  No rain, no crawling thing to spoil our fun, till one day just before dinner—­Percy and me sittin’ there with the blankets between us and our beans counted out at the side, raisin’ and cross-liftin’ each other, him having drawed one card whilest I took two to a pair of tens and a kicker, and made four tens—­a shadder fell on the blanket.  Percy was too busy wondering whether he’d better see my last raise to notice, but your Uncle Zeke has lived so long in lonesome and sometimes unhealthy places that the chill of that shadder, comin’ so noiseless and unexpected, fell on his soul.  Before I raised my eyes I looked at the shadder close; yes, there was a gun, and it was also an Injun.

“There ain’t anything an Injun likes better than to sit tight and enjoy a cinch.  He won’t kill you as long as he can get some fun out of you.

“I ain’t savin’ what I felt, but old pink-and-white Percival was there, babe in the woods dependin’ on me, and me covered by an Apache rifle!

“‘How!’ says I, throwin’ it careless over my shoulder.

“There was a still second.  Then the Injun answers, ‘Huh!’

“Percy looked up, pleased and surprised.

“‘Why, there’s an Indian!’ says he.

“‘Go on with the game,’ says I, cross.  ’Don’t stare at him—­he has feelin’s.’

“Percy got red.  ‘I beg your pardon!’ he says to the Injun—­then to me:  ‘What does he want?’