Dr. Evans had just come from Webster City Hospital with a report for Mr. Hatfield concerning Old Miquel.
“The old fellow’s coming around nicely,” he informed the Cub leader. “A day or two of complete bed rest and he’ll be as good as ever. Quite a character! I had a long talk with him.”
“Did Dan guess right about him?”
“Absolutely. The old coot is a Navajo medicine man. He carved the face at the ravine though he has little recollection of doing it. So far as I can determine, he suffered a severe head blow which caused a memory lapse. Apparently, he hopped a freight, and must have been tossed off here at Webster City. Having no money, he took to living in the woods.”
“Did he tell you anything about the turquoise, doctor?”
“About the same as Dan learned. The tribal treasure was entrusted to him. He sticks to his story of giving it to a trading post man by the name of Howard Brandall. I wired him and received confirmation. The turquoise is still in his safe. He didn’t know the tribe considered it lost or stolen.”
“That’s fine!” Mr. Hatfield said heartily. “Then there’s no reason why Old Miquel can’t soon return to the west?”
“None whatsoever. By the way, what became of those two Indians who tried to avenge the tribe?”
“White Nose and Eagle Feather? No one has seen them since they left the cave this morning.”
Dr. Evans consulted his watch. “It’s now after four o’clock,” he noted. “They should be found, if they’re still in Webster City.”