"I don't want to wake up the tribe. They are sleeping so soundly," she explained.
"There's that funny call again!" exclaimed Walter, stopping in a vigorous scrubbing of his face with the towel to listen.
"Come on!" cried Nan under her breath. "We must find out what that means."
They started for the campfire where the cooks were at work, and ran, clinging to each other's hand. Before they reached the cleared space about the Rose Ranch chuck wagon, a figure loomed up before them.
"Here's Mr. Kane now!" cried Nan, halting before the grim-visaged horseman. "Good-morning, Mr. Kane!"
The man's lips twisted into a smile, and he nodded. But no word came from him. Nan was not to be put off easily. She asked:
"Do you know what that sound is, Mr. Kane? Do listen to it!" as the high-pitched whistle again reached their ears.
Hesitation Kane struggled to answer—and it was a struggle. They could see that. He flushed, and paled, and finally blurted out a single word:
"Outlaw!"
With that he strode by and was lost in the shadows of the trees.
Nan and Walter gazed at each other in both amazement and amusement.