"Indeed I have not," was the emphatic and somewhat angry denial. "I am surprised that you think I would deceive you, daddy. Sconda refers to someone else. It is Curly who came by the pass, and not Mr. Reynolds."
"Curly! Curly here, did you say?" Weston almost shouted the words, and so fierce did he look that the Indian retreated a step.
"Ah, ah, Curly here," Sconda replied.
"When did he come?"
"To-day. He was caught as he came through the pass. He shot, but missed."
"Where is he now?"
"At Taku's."
Weston placed his hand to his forehead in perplexity.
"This is certainly a great home-coming," he muttered. "Trouble everywhere, with white men entering the place by lake and pass. Look, Sconda, bring Curly here in one hour. See?"
The Indian merely nodded.