Charlie’s voice was husky as he said this and he looked at Levine with his teeth bared, like a wolf, Lydia thought.

“Then he said while he was getting that done, he would pay us a little every month to go through the woods and chop down the best trees.  The Big Father will let whites get ‘dead and down’ timber out of Indian woods, he said.  But not let whites cut any.  So we say yes, and though full bloods are very mad when we cut down big trees, we do it.  For many moons we do it and in winter, white men haul it to sawmills.

“Every little while, Levine comes up there and we have a council and tell him everything that happens.  All about things Marshall and other whites do.  And he pays us always.  Then he tells us that the Big Father will let mixed bloods sell their pine lands but not full bloods.  So then we agree when he wants any full blood land to swear that any full blood is mixed.  And we have done this now, perhaps twenty times.”

The mixed blood and Charlie paused, and Levine leaned forward.  “Crippled Bear,” he said, “why did you tell all this?”

Crippled Bear Jerked a swarthy thumb at Billy Norton.  “That white,” he answered in English, “tell me if I tell truth, maybe I get back all lands and pine.  I like that, you un’stand—­for then I sell ’em again, un’stand.”

A little ripple of laughter went through the room, though John himself did not smile.  He looked at young Norton with his black eyes half closed.

Mr. Smith took up a paper.  “I have here, Mr. Levine, a statement of your dealings with the Lake City Lumber Company.  You have had sawed by them during the past six or eight years millions of feet of pine lumber.  I find that you are holding Indian lands in the name of Lydia Dudley and her father, Amos Dudley, these lands legally belonging to full bloods.  Amos Dudley is also the purchaser of land from full bloods, as is William Norton, Senior, through you.”

Levine rose quickly.  “Gentlemen,” he exclaimed, “surely you can find enough counts against me without including Miss Dudley, who has never heard of the matters you mention.”

Commissioner James spoke for the first time.  “Suppose we go on with the witnesses before we open any discussion with Mr. Levine.  Jackson, what have these squaws to tell?  Or first, what about the other bucks?”

When Charlie had called the last of these Levine spoke, “I’d like to call the Government Roll-maker, Mr. Hardy.”

A small man, who had slipped into the room unnoticed during the proceedings, came forward.

“What is your business, Mr. Hardy?” asked Levine.

“I am sent here by the Indian office to make a Roll of the Indians on this reservation, in the attempt to discover which are full and which mixed bloods.”

“Do you find your task difficult, Mr. Hardy?” Levine’s voice was whimsical.

“Very!  The Government allows a man to claim his Indian rights when he has as little as one sixty-fourth of Indian blood in his veins.  On the other hand, the older Indians are deadly ashamed of white blood in their veins and hate to admit it.”