e got rid of."

"I could have potted him several times," replied Cameron, "but did not
wish to push matters to extremes."

"Quite right. Quite right. That has been our policy hitherto, but now
things have reached such a crisis that we can take no further chances.
The Sioux must be eliminated."

"All right, sir," said Cameron, and a new purpose shaped itself in his
heart. At all costs he would get the Sioux, alive if possible, dead if
not.

Plainly the first thing was to uncover his tracks, and with this
intention Cameron proceeded to the Blackfeet Reserve, riding with Jerry
down the Bow River from Fort Calgary, until, as the sun was setting on
an early May evening, he came in sight of the Blackfoot Crossing.

Not wishing to visit the Militia camp at that point, and desiring
to explore the approaches of the Blackfeet Reserve with as little
ostentation as possible, he sent Jerry on with the horses, with
instructions to meet him later on in the evening on the outside of the
Blackfeet camp, and took a side trail on foot leading to the reserve
through a coulee. Through the bottom of the coulee ran a little
stream whose banks were packed tight with alders, willows and poplars.
Following the trail to where it crossed the stream, Cameron left it for
the purpose of quenching his thirst, and proceeded up-stream some little
way from the usual crossing. Lying there prone upon his face he caught
the sound of hoofs, and, peering through the alders, he saw a line
of Indians riding down the opposite bank. Burying his head among the
tangled alders and hardly breathing, he watched them one by one cross
the stream not more than thirty yards away and clamber up the bank.

"Something doing here, sure enough," he said to himself as he noted
their faces. Three of them he knew, Red Crow of the Bloods, Trotting
Wolf of the Piegans, Running Stream of the Blackfeet, then came three
others unknown to Cameron, and last in the line Cameron was startled to
observe Copperhead himself, while close at his side could be seen the
slim figure of his son. As the Sioux passed by Cameron's hiding-place
he paused and looked steadily down into the alders for a moment or two,
then rode on.

"Saved yourself that time, old man," said Cameron as the Sioux
disappeared, following the others up the trail. "We will see just which
trail you take," he continued, following them at a safe distance and
keeping himself hidden by the brush till they reached the open a