And that was all Bill could get out of him then. So the chief fell to talking of other things, and they chatted agreeably for some time.
When the ruffian was ready to retire, he called the guard. Then he bade Frank good night and went out.
Merry slept with the same amazing peacefulness. But some time in the night he started wide-awake, seeming to feel near him the presence of some one.
The fire had died out, save for a few glowing coals on the hearth. The sentinel sat rigid in his corner. Merry could not tell if he slept or not.
Outside the cabin something seemed to brush lightly against the wall.
This gentle sound was not repeated. After listening a long time, Frank fell asleep once more.
In the morning he found a black feather where it had fallen to the ground after being thrust through a crack in the wall.
At sight of the feather he started. Then he hastened to pick it up and conceal it.
For that feather told him that old Joe Crowfoot was near. It promised escape from the hands of the ruffians, and caused Merry to suddenly cease planning himself and trust things wholly to Crowfoot. He knew old Joe would find an opportunity to try to aid him to escape.