"I ain't any surprised at Kiddie's refusin' ter take on the chief business," commented Gideon.
"Not but what he'd make a tip-top Injun chief," added Isa Blagg. "But I'm figurin' as the time's gone by for a lay-out of that sort. Thar ain't liable t' be any more Injun wars an' mutinies, an' thar's no need fer another Sitting Bull. Buffalo huntin's played out, too. Buffaloes are 'most all killed off. All that's left for the Redskin is to turn his mind to agriculture, an' thar's heaps of men c'n teach 'em husbandry better'n Kiddie could."
"That's so, Isa; that's so," agreed Kiddie.
"Say, Sheriff," interposed Rube; "have you gotten any news ter tell us about that Sanson T. Wrangler business that brought you t' our camp t' get Kiddie's advice?"
"No." The sheriff shook his head. "No, it all turned out just as Kiddie said, in every particular."
"And Nick Undrell had nothin' whatever to do with it?" questioned Kiddie.
"No, Nick was innercent that time," returned Isa. "Nick's been keepin' on the straight trail since that occasion when you'd a talk with him, I'm told, however, that he's broken out again--gamblin', drinkin', an' cavortin' around with the old gang."
"Which reminds me," said Abe Harum. "Nick Undrell's bin seen prowlin' around this yer camp a good deal lately--since you've bin away on your trip, Kiddie. I'm kind o' suspicious that he ain't spying around for no good. Seems he's bin making friends with that big dog, too."
"With Sheila?" Kiddie started upright in his seat. "By the way, where is she? I haven't seen or heard her since we came back. I wonder she hasn't discovered that we're here. Where is she?"
"Oh, the hound's all right," Abe Harum assured him. "Guess she's asleep in her kennel. Pass that tobacco jar, Rube."
Kiddie had a profound faith in his deerhound's sagacity, and he was more than a little disappointed that she had not yet discovered his presence in the camp.
He did not again refer to her absence that night, assuming that the hound could hardly have scented him passing in the canoe, or heard him landing so far away from the cabin as Grizzly Notch. But when he went to bed he began to wonder anew. He stood at the open window, listening, hoping to hear her bark. Hearing no sound but the whispering of the wind in the trees, he got his feet on a chair and leant out. He whistled, a long shrill whistle.