tion and remained silently smoking.

"Why does the son of Onawata come to me?" inquired Cameron.

A soft and subtle change transformed the boy's face. He pulled up his
trouser leg and, pointing to the scarred ankle, said:

"You' squaw good--me two leg--me come tell you take squaw 'way far--no
keel. Take cattle 'way--no steal." He rose suddenly to his feet. "Me go
now," he said, and passed out.

"Hold on!" cried Cameron, following him out to the door. "Where are you
going to sleep to-night?"

The boy waved his hand toward the hills surrounding the little town.

"Here," said Cameron, emptying his tobacco pouch into the boy's hand.
"I will tell my squaw that Onawata's son is not ungrateful, that he
remembered her kindness and has paid it back to me."

For the first time a smile broke on the grave face of the Indian. He
took Cameron's hand, laid it upon his own heart, and then on Cameron's.

"You' squaw good--good--much good." He appeared to struggle to find
other words, but failing, and with a smile still lingering upon his
handsome face, he turned abruptly away and glided silent as a shadow
into the starlit night. Cameron watched him out of sight.

"Not a bad sort," he said to himself as he walked toward the hotel.
"Pretty tough thing for him to come here and give away his dad's scheme
like that--and I bet you he is keen on it himself too."

CHAPTER XVIII

AN OUTLAW, BUT A MAN

The news brought by the Indian lad changed for Cameron all his plans.
This cattle-raid was evidently a part of and preparation for the bigger
thing, a general uprising and war of extermination on the part of the
Indians. From his recent visit to the reserves he was convinced that the
loyalty of even the great Chiefs was becoming somewhat brittle and would
not bear any sudden strain put upon it. A successful raid of cattle such
as was being proposed escaping the notice of the Police, or in the teeth
of the Police, would have a disastrous effect upon the prestige of the
whole Force, already shaken by the Duck Lake reverse. The effect of
that skirmish was beyond belief. The victory of the half-breeds was
exaggerated in the wildest degree. He must act and act quickly. His home
and his family and those of his neighbors were in danger of the most
horrible fate that could befall any human being. If the cattle-raid were
carried through by the Piegan Indians its sweep would certainly include
the Big Horn Ranch, and there was every likelih