saw hovering around our camp
before, and who wouldn't stop to be questioned?" he asked, turning to
the Maine boy.

"I was just thinking of that myself when you spoke, Thad," came the
ready answer.

"I wonder, now, why he keeps on hanging after us," the scoutmaster
remarked. "And I'm going to ask him first of all."

With that he turned to the prisoner, and went on to say:

"Can you understand; do you know what I am saying?"

"Yes, can speak same, all right," came the answer, in pretty fair
English.

"Well, we want to know why you are hanging about our camp so much.
Once before we saw you, and tried to talk with you, but you moved off.
Now, away up here in the mountains you come again, sneaking around,
and taking chances of being shot for a prowling wolf. Tell us why you
do this? I don't believe you meant to steal anything because you've
made no attempt to creep into the camp; but we want to know just why
you hang around this way."

"Make come back more two, three times, look at teepee, see fine
picture there. Never see like before. Much good! Ugh! P'raps sell
same, bimeby, when go back!"

"What under the sun does he mean by that talk, Thad? Sure we ain't in
the picture selling business, even if I am taking some dandy
snapshots. I wonder, now, has he seen me at work; does he think I'm a
traveling photograph man, and wants me to strike him off, in his
warpaint and feathers?"

Davy Jones managed to say all of this, but no one was paying much
attention to his remarks.

"Tell you what, fellers," broke in the irrepressible Giraffe, just
then; "he's taken a shine to our tents, and wants to buy one when
we're done with 'em. Knows a good thing when he sees it, he does.
Just as if we'd let 'em go for a song, when they're cram full of
associations for us."

"You're not on to it yet, boys;" remarked Thad, quietly; "it's the
head of the fox which we had painted so cleverly on each tent that's
caught his eye; and he just can't help hanging around, to keep on
gazing at it, for some reason or other."

For the first time they saw a sign of emotion flit across the face of
the young Indian brave. He struck himself violently on the chest.

"Me Fox!" he exclaimed, proudly. "Soon me must have teepee for self.
See picture fox on same, think can buy. Give much pelt for same. Ugh!
what white boy say?"

"Well, just to think of it, here's another Fox, all right?" called out
Giraffe. "We're treading on his heels, so to speak, bo