Deerfoot was still holding the letter in his hand and looking earnestly at Ned, without noticing the words of Blossom.
"Can my white brother write on the back of this the words which Colonel Preston can read?"
It flashed upon young Preston that the keen-witted youth was unraveling the plan he had held in mind from the first.
"Certainly I can."
"Write some message on this paper for him."
"But, Deerfoot, I have no pen, nor ink, nor pencil, or I would only be too glad to do so."
The Shawanoe was prepared for this.
"Deerfoot will bring you something that will do."
He moved away from his young friends, with that silence and stealth which seemed a part of his nature, while the delighted and expectant friend turned to Blossom Brown—
"Do you understand what his plan is to reach—"