. It's right up to you."

He turned abruptly away and moved off. To the dullest it was obvious
he was anxious to escape further interrogation. And these men were not
dull.

Bill followed him a few steps and stood watching his slim, lithe figure
vanish amongst the close-growing spruce. Kars, too, watched him go.
But he had not stirred out of his seat. They waited until the sound of
his footsteps had died out. Then Kars bestirred himself. He passed
from the camp to where his Indians were sleeping. When he returned
Bill was standing over the fire.

"I've set a boy to trail him to the edge of the woods," he said. Then
he returned to his seat.

Bill nodded.

"Well?"

Kars laughed.

"An elegant outfit," he said with appreciation. "I guess he's more
scared of us than the Bell River devils. We're not to get the bunch of
neches I guessed."

"No. He's a crook and--a bad one. When do we pull out?"

Kars looked up. His eyes were steady and keen. His jaws were set
aggressively.

"When I've nosed out the secret of this darned layout."

"But----"

"Say, Bill," Kars' manner became suddenly alive with enthusiasm, "we've
chased a thousand miles and more this summer, nosing, and scratching,
and worrying to find some of the secrets of this mighty big land.
We've sweated and cussed till even the flies and skitters must have
been ashamed. I figger we've lit right on top of a big secret here,
and--well, I don't fancy being bluffed out of it by any low-down bum of
a half-breed. That feller wants to be quit of us. He's bluffing.
We've hit the camp with the neches _out_. Do you get that? If they'd
bin around we wouldn't have seen any Louis Creal. We'd have had all
the lead poisoning the neches could have handed us. Wait till Charley
gets back."

Peigan Charley was squatting on his haunches holding out the palms of
his lean hands to the warming blaze of the fire.

Darkness had shut down upon the gloomy world about them. The air was
chill. The fire was more than welcome. Kars was sitting adjacent to
his faithful servant, and Bill was on the other side of him. The
Indian was talking in a low voice, and in a deliberate fashion.

"I mak him," he said, in his quaint, broken way. "Neche all out. Only
squaws, an' pappoose by the camp. Old men--yes. Him all by river.
Much squaws by river. Charley not come by river. No good. Charley
him look by camp. Him see much teepee, much shack. Oh, yes, plenty