“You’re probably right,” said Dick. “An Indian, not a white man attacked you. As a general thing a white man doesn’t know much about knife throwing. No doubt, it was one of the Mekewai brothers.”
Toma nodded his head slightly, lying there on the pillow.
“I think mebbe Mekewai too.”
“What induced you to go hunting at that hour?” inquired Sandy reproachfully. “Was that your real reason for going off alone?”
The Indian flushed. “That only one reason,” he admitted.
“What were some of the others?” Dick smiled. Toma hesitated, looking at the factor. Mr. Scott interpreted that look.
“If you like, I’ll withdraw,” he announced cheerily.
“No, Mr. Scott, stay right where you are. You might as well hear the rest of the story. Toma, you can trust Mr. Scott implicitly. Now what was another reason?”
“I know,” interrupted Sandy eagerly. “He was out trying to find the place where the Mekewai brothers hid those sacks. Come now, confess. Isn’t that what you were doing?”
To the surprise of everyone, Toma shook his head.