“Miss Flora? No, indeed. Why do you ask such a question?”
“Did he say nothing about her?”
“Nothing at all. He remained with us a few days, and then went away with a stray Indian.”
“Of what tribe was the Indian?”
“I think he was a Blackfoot.”
“It is plain enough now. I feared as much. We have both been cheated, and Silverspur has carried off the prize.”
Benning then related his own adventures, and what he knew of those of Flora, winding up his account by declaring that he had had no doubt that the young lady had arrived safely at the rendezvous, until Laurie had convinced him to the contrary. Both agreed in thinking it very strange that Wilder had not spoken of Flora at the rendezvous, and could only attribute his silence to the intention of foul play.
“The old chief told me the truth; then,” remarked Laurie, “and the Blackfeet were the rascals who stampeded our camp. Do you think it likely that that young chap, when he stole Miss Flora away from them, would also have carried off the old man’s scalp?”
“Of course not. That is a strange question to ask.”
“To tell you the truth, Benning, I am interested in obtaining that scalp. If you can manage to get it for me, by trading or in any other way, I will resign my claim to Flora in your favor.”