“And what makes me so cussid mad,” continued Old Pegs, paying no attention to the question, “he got me ter chain up Bruin over night. He knowed right well, the owdashus cuss, thet the b’ar would never hev let him out. I git so mad sometimes when I think of it I c’u’d eat my shirt. Oh mortal pizen, ef I ever meet him!”
“What shall we do?” demanded Dave. “It isn’t safe to waste any time if these Modoc Sioux are really his men.”
“What is the matter, father?” cried Myrtle from her sleeping apartment.
“They’ve dug out, both them low-lived skunks,” snarled Old Pegs. “Git up and dress, gal; we must git out’n this mighty quick. Dave, come with me.”
They ran out of the house, and quickly found the trail which led out of the little valley to the south. Following it rapidly, they soon satisfied themselves that their enemies had really left the valley, going toward the “Sulphur Spring,” where Rafe had appointed the rendezvous.
“They’ve gone ter jine the Injins,” said Old Pegs. “Won’t you be so good ez to give me a big kick astarn, Dave? I desarve it.”
“What is done—is done,” replied Dave, “and we can not avoid it. What is that by the spring yonder?”
“It looks like Bruin,” replied Old Pegs. “The black thief got away arter all, and I wonder he let ’em go.”
“Probably he did not break away until after their departure,” replied Dave. “Let us call him.”
He gave a shrill whistle, the call which Bruin always answered, but to their surprise the bear did not move. Running up hastily, they found the bear lying by the side of the spring, his tongue hanging out of his mouth, and a white foam lying thick upon the grass.