I was going to point out that the moon

  "Saturday night!" Koppy announced suddenly.   "Er--what's that?" Werner had straightened on the bunk and was regarding his leader with fearful eyes. "Ah--yes--Saturday night. But don't you think a week from now, say next Tuesday--"   "Saturday night," repeated Koppy.   "If you wouldn't be so swift, Koppy, I was going to point out that the moon will be darker a few days later. I'm a regular nightingale when it comes to the dark."   "Some bird!" sneered Koppy. "Maybe you flew from the Indians."   "Look here, old chap," Werner bridled, "you don't think I ran about looking for that Indian and threw the damn things at him?"   "You run-a spry away from him," jeered Morani.   Werner made a furious movement, but noticed the Italian's knife-hand in time.   "I wish to blazes I'd run spryer before he hit me. Anybody's welcome to this knob on my nut. Trouble was I was too heavily armed to fight. Ask me my private opinion and I'd say Mavy's brought his tribe down to bother us. I'm game to butt up against anything that wears boots. But them Indians don't even wear pants--not what you'd notice."   "Indians got-a you--they wear pants, no?" leered Morani.   Koppy interrupted what promised to develop into a row.   "At one o'clock Saturday night," he announced in a loud voice. "Till then no touch rifles. Say nothing till the day. That's all."