Genesee only laughed shortly—an Indian laugh, in which there is no melody.
Those were the first neat cattle that were ever brought to the Genesee flats.
"Don't blame the whole squad," said the man who took the articles from the Captain and handed them up to Genesee.
The coffee was drank, and the lunch for Andrews was appropriated for Genesee.
Again and again Genesee's eyes seemed to say, "Can it be you?"
"Take care there with your knives," said Genesee as one shoulder was bared to sight.
Then for the first time, Genesee spoke of his self-imposed search.
To their people he was not Genesee the outcast, the immoral, the suspected.
"Bide a bit, Genesee," he said, his native accent always creeping upward in any emotion.
"This is Mr. Stuart," said the Major, and then turned to Genesee.