“He was shot,” Don Haurea explained briefly. “We will get him where it is warm and see if we can help him.”
“Shall I go ahead with a light?” Jim asked softly.
“It would be a good plan,” the Don answered, so the boy led the way down the treacherous trail. Zargo might have been carrying an infant for all the effort it took, and finally they were again in the bunkhouse. Bob was too amazed for even the mildest of exclamations, but he jumped in and arranged a bunk.
“We found him near where the plane was,” Mr. Austin explained. Then they waited silently while Zargo examined the Indian, and after what seemed hours, he looked up.
“In a moment he will return to consciousness,” he announced, and he was right. Pigeon Jute opened his dark eyes, looked from one to the other, then tried to raise himself. Don Haurea spoke to him in his own language and the Indian’s eyes lighted. After a minute, he spoke a few sentences, and when he was finished the Don nodded.
“He says that for some time he has been selling--or delivering long distance flying pigeons to Arthur Gordon. He was in the north at the time of the trouble at the Box-Z, so did not hear of it until a few days ago after he had delivered several carriers to a ranch outside of Crofton. When he learned of the difficulty he started to find young Gordon to collect his money. He trailed him to the ranch, but could not locate him until this morning. When you boys left the dugout Jute started up the trail. He was behind the cliffs when the place blew up and was coming back to see if you were hurt when he saw Gordon leap into the plane. He tried to prevent it, but was shot for his pains.”
“Yes, but not so well as his own tongue, which is less effort while he is so weak,” Don Haurea replied.
“Whistling Pigs,” exclaimed Bob, “reckon that’s why Gordon did not favor us with any more lead.”
“What was Gordon going to do, or doing with carrier pigeons?” Jim wanted to know. “Are they kept on that ranch?”
“Merely shipped from there. The man told Jute they had sold the place and were waiting for the last birds he brought down.”
“Truck, and probably that truck will not appear in the neighborhood again. From the plane, Gordon no doubt dropped a warning, or several of them, and every trace will be obliterated at once.”