he ate it, then sat back and smoked his
pipe.
"See other Big Friend," he finally vouchsafed.
"Tom Gray?" questioned Grace, instantly divining who Willy meant.
The Indian nodded his head.
"Him say all right," he added after an interval of puffing. "Say him
come along bymeby. Say Willy Horse show you place to camp. Me show."
"That will be fine. Did my husband say when he expected to join us?"
asked Grace.
"Say him come along soon. You see other white men?" Willy bent a steady
look on the face of Hippy Wingate.
"I should say we have. Deputy sheriffs, game wardens and a forest
ranger."
"Yes, and we saw a fellow named Peg Tatem. We had a fight with him,"
Emma informed their visitor.
"So?"
"Yes, we did, Mr. Horse. And some one shot a hole through his wooden
leg. Who do you suppose could have done that?"
"Big Friend, huh?" he questioned, looking up at Hippy.
"Not guilty," answered Hippy with a shake of the head.
"How come?" demanded the Indian.
Emma Dean told him the story, Willy listening gravely, puffing slowly at
his pipe, eyes fixed on the campfire. He smoked on in silence for some
time after the conclusion of her narrative.
"Mebby Willy find out," he grunted.
"You suspect, don't you?" demanded Elfreda, who had been narrowly
observing the Indian.
"Make breakfast. We go soon. Willy show where make camp." With that the
Indian rose, turned his back on them and loped into the forest. They saw
no more of him for fully two hours, and were already packed up and on
their way when they saw him standing with shoulder against a great tree,
watching their approach.
"You come along. Willy show," he directed as Hippy came abreast of him.
"How long will it take to reach this camp?" asked Lieutenant Wingate.
"Long time. Next sundown."
"To-morrow's or to-day's sundown?" demanded Emma.
"To-morrow."
Willy resumed his Indian gait, shoulders leaning forward, toes pointed
inward, his center of gravity well forward, and in this position he
trotted along for hours. The party halted at noon, but Willy Horse
jogged on ahead and was soon out of sight. He rejoined them after they
had resumed their journey and did not again stop until just before dark
when he announced that they would camp where they were. The Indian then
made browse-beds in the open for the Overland girls, and again
disappeared.
"What's the matter with that pesky savage?" demanded the forest woman.
"He's wuss'n the bear."
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