"Charley!" exclaimed the officer. As he spoke, the outcast, shouldering a bundle of sticks, began to climb the cut.
The two men looked at each other and burst into a laugh.
"Fraser," said Lounsbury, "did you ever hear of the fellow that stalked a deer all day and then found it was a speck on his glasses?"
"That's one on me," admitted the lieutenant, sheepishly. "I knew nobody had come out of that door—but you see we were in the stable a while."
"'Charley,'—that squaw Indian they told me about, eh? Pretty good to them."
"Yes. From what I understand, they're pretty good to him."
They followed leisurely, and took up a stand in the cottonwoods above the landing to discuss the situation. At the very outset, Lounsbury determined not to speak of the plan that included Mrs. Martin's aid, the rebuff he had suffered from the section-boss having decided him against it.
"By George!" he said regretfully, "I wish when I had Matthews covered that I'd just marched him up the coulée and on to Clark's."
"Good idea; too bad you didn't."
"But I'll tell you this: I'm not going to stay out here all night just to shoo him off. I've a good mind to happen in down there, sort him out, and do the marching act anyhow."