“We wanted to listen powerful bad to what he was a-sayin’,” explained Dick. “But we couldn’t get close enough. There wasn’t much cover near ’em and we had to lay hid where the trees was thickest, quite a ways off. Art and I lay there, a-strainin’ our ears but without any luck when suddenly somethin’ happens. Most of ’em was on shore, listenin’ to Lupo but in one canoe was one man a-huntin’ around like he’d lost somethin’.
“What it was we never did know. But suddenly, this fellow shoves off with a shout to Lupo. Lupo answers like he was agreein’. So then this fellow comes a-paddlin’ down stream like mad. As he goes by where we’re a-layin’ low, Art whispers to me: ‘This is where Lupo turns his gang around. That’s sure. Best thing we can do is to beat it back an’ warn our crowd. An’ my legs is tired. I’d like to let my arms work for me. Let’s go.’
“I nods, and without any more words we backed out and started down stream after that canoe. The fellow is goin’ like mad, which means he ain’t intendin’ to go far. He’s lost somethin’ or other and thinks it may be floatin’ on the water or, maybe is layin’ on shore where he touched. Anyway, that’s what we thought. We never did get to know. For after we’d made a bend in the stream and put some distance between Lupo and us, we decided it was no use runnin’ any farther.
“‘Here goes,’ said Art. And he let fly over the Indian’s head. That fellow didn’t wait for more. He just jumped out of the canoe an’ started swimmin’ for the other shore. So then Art give me his rifle an’ he swims out and brings in the canoe. Last we seen of that Indian he was streaking it back on the other bank. I got in and—well, here we are.”
MacDonald, who had listened in silence, suddenly interrupted:
“How many men has Lupo got with him?”
“A dozen.”
MacDonald looked at Mr. Hampton.
“You know why I want him,” he said. “For murder. And then there’s this raid on you. There are eight of us, includin’ these husky young fellows of yours. Will you help me capture him an’ his gang?”
Mr. Hampton looked thoughtful.