"Oh, no, I guess we can fix you up a place to sleep," said Uncle Fred kindly. "There are some bunks in the barn where the extra cowboys used to sleep. You can stay there until your foot gets well, and Bill Johnson can give you something to eat now and then."
"Oh, I'll feed him all right," said the cook. "He seems like a good Indian. I wish I knew what he meant by that 'papoose' he's always talking about."
But Red Feather could not tell, though he tried hard, and none of the cowboys spoke his kind of language. So he went to sleep in the barn, on a pile of clean straw, and seemed very thankful to all who had helped him.
"Did you find out anything about the queer spring?" asked Mrs. Bunker of her husband and Uncle Fred that night, when the children had gone to bed.
"No, nothing. We dug up back of the rocks, but found nothing that would show where the water runs away to."
"And did you hear of any more of your cattle being taken away?" asked Captain Roy, who had been visiting his son at the nearest army post. This son was also Captain Robert Roy, for he was named Robert for his father, and was now a captain in the regular army. Captain Roy, the father, had just come back.
"Yes, a few were driven off, as almost always happens when the spring goes dry," said the ranchman in answer to Captain Roy's question. "It is a puzzle—beats Laddie's riddles all to pieces."
"I suppose he'll be getting up some new ones about the Indian to-morrow," said Captain Roy.
"If the Indian doesn't run off in the night with one of the ponies," said Daddy Bunker.
"Oh, he won't go," declared Uncle Fred. "He's being treated too nicely here. He'll stay until his foot gets better."