Part 12 (2/2)

”Time's up, I should say,” said the Inspector to Cameron as he returned with his horse. ”Just give him a call, will you?”

Cameron stepped to the door of the teepee.

”Come along, Chief, we must be going,” he said, putting his head inside the teepee door. ”h.e.l.lo!” he cried, ”Where the deuce--where is he gone?”

He sprang quickly out of the teepee. ”Has he pa.s.sed out?”

”Pa.s.sed out?” said the Inspector. ”No. Is he not inside?”

”He's not here.”

Both men rushed into the teepee. On the couch the boy still lay, his eyes brilliant with fever but more with hate. At the foot of the couch still crouched the old crone, but there was no sign of the Chief.

”Get up!” said the Inspector to the old squaw, turning the blankets and skins upside down.

”Hee! hee!” she laughed in diabolical glee, spitting at him as he pa.s.sed.

”Did no one enter?” asked Cameron.

”Not a soul.”

”Nor go out?”

”No one except the old squaw here. I saw her go out with a pack.”

”With a pack!” echoed Cameron. And the two men stood looking at each other. ”By Jove!” said Cameron in deep disgust, ”We're done. He is rightly named Copperhead. Quick!” he cried, ”Let us search this camp, though it's not much use.”

And so indeed it proved. Through every teepee they searched in hot haste, tumbling out squalling squaws and papooses. But all in vain.

Copperhead had as completely disappeared as if he had vanished into thin air. With faces stolid and unmoved by a single gleam of satisfaction the Indians watched their hurried search.

”We will take a turn around this camp,” said Cameron, swinging on to his pony. ”You hear me!” he continued, riding up close to Trotting Wolf, ”We haven't got our man but we will come back again. And listen carefully!

If I lose a single steer this fall I shall come and take you, Trotting Wolf, to the Fort, if I have to bring you by the hair of the head.”

But Trotting Wolf only shrugged his shoulders, saying:

”No see cow.”

”Is there any use taking a look around this camp?” said the Inspector.

”What else can we do?” said Cameron. ”We might as well. There is a faint chance we might come across a trace.”

But no trace did they find, though they spent an hour and more in close and minute scrutiny of the ground about the camp and the trails leading out from it.

”Where now?” inquired the Inspector.

”Home for me,” said Cameron. ”To-morrow to Calgary. Next week I take up this trail. You may as well come along with me, Inspector. We can talk things over as we go.”

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