THE TURN OF THE TIDE.
"Hold on, Fox! that man has been punished enough; and besides you've recovered the belt, so there's been no real harm done. Let him get up!"
It was Thad who said this, as he and Aleck broke cover, and appeared before the astonished eyes of the two who were on the ground, the Crow boy flourishing his knife in a way calculated to make any one's blood run cold.
The Fox seemed to recognize that Thad spoke as one having authority. He had seen him manage things in the camp of the scouts, and noticed how willingly the rest of the boys recognized his leadership. And secretly the Crow boy admired Thad more than any paleface lad he had ever met on or off the reservation, saving possibly Aleck.
So he immediately arose, and hastened to conceal his knife.
"Give big scare, so him never try again!" he muttered, looking down.
"Don't ye believe him; he just meant to take my ears off, for a fact," exclaimed the man as he gained his feet, hardly knowing whether to start in running once more, or trust to Thad to stand between himself and the injured Crow boy.
"Well, then, we just happened along this way in time to save them for you; and Waffles, suppose you clear out of this as fast as you can. Don't forget what we said about shooting, if ever we found you around our camp. Now, if you get away in a hurry, I'll agree to keep the Fox beside me. Only if you know what's good for you, never go near the reservation again."
"Well, I never will, make up your mind to that. Hold him now; I'm going to skedaddle out of this on the jump!" and sure enough Waffles did, rushing away as only a good healthy fright could urge on a tired man.
Nor did any of them see him again, or either of the other two for that matter. They must have made up their minds that the region around there was unhealthy for fellows of their stamp, and that the sooner they turned their faces toward civilization the better for them.