“If you refer to the man who is known as Gray Chief, he is my father.”
“Your father! Then, indeed, he is a fortunate man. Were I the kin of one so lovely I would indeed be happy.”
Pearl made no reply, for compliments she was unused to, and Kansas King continued:
“Will you guide me to your father, for I would speak with him upon a matter of interest to both of us?”
Without reply Pearl drew a small revolver from her belt and fired it three times in rapid succession, the ringing reports rattling like a volley of musketry along the cañon.
“Ha! Would you call aid?” cried Kansas King quickly, and his dark eyes flashed fire.
“I have simply called my father; he will soon be here, sir.”
Still maintaining her position of defense, Pearl now replied to the question addressed her by the outlaw chief, until the sound of running feet was heard. The next moment up dashed the hermit and White Slayer, their rifles ready in hand.
At the sight of Kansas King the two halted. Seeing that their action was hostile, the outlaw cried, speaking in the Sioux tongue: