"But we walk along path horse took, and marks of him feet come right to this camp."
"Is that so?" asked Mr. Brown. "We'll have to look into this. Perhaps the thief did pass among our tents to hide the direction he really took. We'll have a look in the morning. It's too dark now."
Indeed it was very dark, the campfire throwing out but fitful gleams, for enough of the roasted ears had been cooked to suit every one. Eagle Feather bade his friends good-bye, remarking again how sorry he was over losing his horse, and he said he would see them all in the morning.
With the children and Tom safely in bed Uncle Tad and Mr. and Mrs. Brown talked the matter over.
"Eagle Feather seems to think his horse was brought to this camp," said Mrs. Brown.
"Perhaps he does," agreed her husband. "But that doesn't matter."
"I don't like it though," went on his wife. "The idea of thinking Bunny might have had a hand in the trick!"
"I don't believe Eagle Feather ever had such an idea," laughed Mr. Brown. "He might have thought Tom, from having watched the corn dance, had taken the horse in fun, but I don't believe he has any such idea now."
"I should hope not!" exclaimed Mrs. Brown.
Early the next morning Eagle Feather and another Indian came to the camp. They looked for the marks of horses' hoofs and found some they said were those of Eagle Feather's animal in the soft dirt. But though the marks came to the edge of the camp, they did not go through the spaces between the tents.