"No. I asked him to keep within easy reach of the Overland camp at night while we are away."
Willy, being a man of his word, guarded the Overland camp jealously for two nights, but on the morning of the next day, just before daybreak, he started to go upstream and look for the two absent men, his understanding being that they were to be away but one night. He was hiking along the river bank when Hippy, who had remained with the horses while his companion went into the forest for a final brief survey before starting for home, discovered the Indian who hailed him.
"How do?" greeted the Indian.
"Nothing wrong at camp, is there?" questioned the Overland Rider anxiously.
"No. Me come see where Big Friends go."
"That is fine. You are just the man I wish to see. Who cut off this timber, Willy?" indicating the cutting that he and Tom had first discovered.
"Not know. Somebody steal um."
"That is what Captain Gray says. Perhaps it was cut by a new owner—someone who has bought this plot, Willy."
The Indian, gazing on the stumps in the clearing with expressionless eyes, shook his head slowly.
"This section belongs to the state, I think," ventured Hippy.