To Dick’s great disappointment, the corporal shook his head.
“No, I’ll go alone,” he smiled. “You can stay here and rest on your oars. I think you’ve done enough for one day, Dick, old chap. I may call upon you later. Now if you’ll tell me where I can find this Mekewai tepee, I’ll be ever so much obliged to you.”
“Turn down the bank to your right when you get to the boat landing,” instructed Dick. “It’s the fourth tepee.”
Corporal Rand rose, yawned and walked over to where Henry Mekewai lay trussed up on the floor. To Dick’s surprise, he spoke to him.
“Where’s your brother?” he demanded.
The Indian’s ugly, repulsive face twisted into a snarl at the sound of the voice. He did not know it was the policeman that spoke to him. His eyes, averted, gazed at the wall beside him.
“Where’s your brother?” persisted the quiet voice.
Henri Mekewai turned his head surlily and looked up. He started visibly. In common with other natives of that vast northern territory, he possessed an almost superstitious dread of anyone wearing that flaming red coat. Sudden terror leaped into his eyes.
“Where’s your brother?” the corporal asked for the third and last time.
“My brother he——” the Indian paused and moistened his dry lips.