“‘One of the Indians who got away from the canoe,’ I cried in a hoarse whisper.
“Old Hal leaped to his feet. He strapped on his belt and swung his gun over his arm. After making sure his revolver was all right, he crept downstairs. I was not going to be cheated out of anything as exciting as this promised to be, so I cautiously followed him.
“The tavern-keeper and by-standers knew Hal well, and, of course, would stake their all on his word; so when he entered the bar-room and cried: ‘Hands up!’ to the Indian, everyone took sides with him, and we soon had the fellow safely bound.
“‘Now, let me see those papers you forged for our claims,’ snarled Hal, fishing through the man’s dirty pockets, but finding nothing.
“The man’s face showed too much elation for an old guide like Hal to be fooled, and he ordered the boys standing about to help him strip the Indian, and there—fastened to his back with strips of plaster—were found the drawings rudely sketched, somewhat like the set of surveys Hal had already filed.
“They were ripped off and thrown into the fire and the villain was chained to a post out in the shed with the dogs, with his arms tied behind him to prevent his escape, until the Sheriff should come in the morning.
“Hal told the crowd all about the treachery of the Indians, and they promised to attend to this man after we were gone.
“A public sledge was about to leave for Dyea in a few days, and Hal engaged seats for himself and me. He paid the tavern-keeper to keep the dogs until he returned.
“I had refrained from asking Hal about my future while there was any doubt of our getting to the Coast, but this seemed to be the best time to speak of it.
“‘What you going to do with me?’ I asked.