"Hurrah for the Baldheads!" shouted the irrepressible Brackett; "they don't get left! not much!"
Even Binney Gibbs came and shook hands with him.
That evening, after the camp was somewhat quieted from its excitement, and after Glen had told his story for about the twentieth time, he disappeared for a short while. When he returned he brought with him an Indian boy, who limped painfully, and seemed very ill at ease in the presence of so many strange pale-faces.
"Who's your friend, Glen?"
"Where are the rest of the ten little Injuns?" shouted the fellows as they crowded about this new object of interest.
When at length a partial quiet was restored, Glen begged them to listen to him for a few minutes, as he had something to propose that he was sure would interest them, and they shouted,
"Fire away, old man, we are all listening!"