"Now, Elk," signed Curtis, "say nothing to any one but your young men and the captain of police, whom I will send with you to bring me word."
After they had all ridden away, Curtis turned to Wilson and said, "I didn't suppose I should live to see a sheep-man and a cattleman riding side by side in this amicable fashion."
"Oh, they'll get together against the Indian, all right. They're mighty glad of a chance to make any kind of common cause. That lazy herder has jumped the country. He told me he was sick of his job."
"But the dog?"
"Oh, he killed the dog to keep him from being traced. There isn't a thing in it, Major."
"I'm inclined to think you're right, but we must make careful investigation; the people are very censorious of my policy."
Next morning Crawling Elk brought word that no trace of the man could be found. "The grass is very dry," he explained, "and the trail is old. We discovered nothing except some horses' hoof-marks."
"Keep searching till every foot of land is covered," commanded Curtis. "Otherwise the white man will complain."
On Friday, just after the bell had called the people to resume work at one o'clock, Crow, the police captain, rode into the yard on a pony covered with ridges of dried sweat. His face was impassive, but his eyes glittered as he lifted his hand and signed:
"The white man's body is found!"