"Why, Don, it's an Injun!" whispered Dot, with surprise.
By this time the door had opened far enough to admit the stranger and he stepped in and squatted down just inside.
Most of the men sitting with faces toward the door saw him but the reader and part of his audience were not aware of the visitor. Dot nudged her father and whispered about the Indian's presence. The service continued, however, without interruption, to the final song. Then many of the men rose and came over to the visitor.
"Hello, Wilotemike! Where'd you come from?"
"Wilotemike! Let me see him!" exclaimed Mr. Starr, in great surprise. He stepped out before the old Indian and saw the same friendly trapper that had advised his friend Dean about the flooded river, and entertained them for a week. He came forward and held out a welcoming hand.
"Well, well, I don't believe you know me, Mike, do you?" asked Mr. Starr, grasping the old man's hand.
After thinking deeply for a few moments, the Indian's face lit up and he smiled recognition at Mr. Starr.
"Mike know friend! Many moons he not come back!" said the Indian reprovingly.
"Not my fault, Mike. Me want to come but find a nice squaw and she keep me home," laughed Mr. Starr, beckoning for his wife to join him.
Of course the children were shown to Mike and the old Indian smiled as he allowed his hand to light gently upon Bab's yellow curls.