It was quite dark when they reached the fire the Siwash had made and found Mr. Barclay, who now seemed rather wet as well as ragged, sitting beside it with his pipe in his hand. When they had compared their fish with those he had killed they lay down among the withered needles on the opposite side of the fire.
"It's good fishing, sir, but you must be very keen to come so far for it," said Harry, looking up innocently at Mr. Barclay.
The red light of the fire was on Mr. Barclay's face and Frank saw that he glanced thoughtfully at Harry.
"It certainly is," he answered. "I believe you have already said something very much like your last remark. Still, you see, I don't propose to come often."
Frank suppressed a chuckle. If Harry had intended to surprise the man into some admission he had not succeeded yet.
"And we go on to the rancherie in a couple of days," Harry added. "From what the Indians told me I don't think we'd get any fishing there. Wouldn't it be better to stay here a little longer?"
"No," said Mr. Barclay, "quite apart from the difficulty of sending your father word, what you suggest doesn't strike me as advisable, for one or two reasons."
Harry seemed to realize that he was making no progress, and, looking meaningly at Frank, suddenly changed his tactics.
"There's something I should perhaps have told you, sir, though I don't know whether it will interest you. Anyway, not long ago Frank and I were up at the Chinese colony behind the settlement near our ranch. Perhaps you have been there?"
"I've heard of it," said Barclay dryly.