"I don't know what you're saying," he said. "If you're lost, and hungry, go back there and they'll feed you."
"Bill Johnson?" asked the Indian.
"So you know my ranch cook, do you?" asked Uncle Fred quickly. "I suppose some one told you to ask for him. Well, he'll give you a meal, and maybe he can understand your talk. I can't. Go back there!" and he pointed to the ranch house.
The Indian got up, and as he walked away he was seen to limp.
"What's the matter? Hurt your foot?" asked Daddy Bunker.
"Much hurt—yes," was the answer, but the Indian did not stop. He kept on his limping way to the ranch houses.
"Is it all right for him to wander around over your ranch this way?" asked Daddy Bunker of Uncle Fred. "Won't he take some of your horses or cattle?"
"Oh, no, the cowboys will be on the watch. I guess Red Feather is all right, though I never saw him before. The Indians often get tired of staying on the reservation and wander off. They go visiting. They stop here now and then, and Bill Johnson feeds 'em. He sort of likes the Indians. I suppose one he fed some time ago has told the others, so Bill has a good name among the Indians. Well, now we'll dig, and see what we can find out about this queer spring."
"Could we go to see the Indian eat?" asked Russ.
"I like him—he talks so funny," said Laddie. "Maybe he knows some new riddles."