“Hold on!” cried Cameron, following him out to the door. “Where are you going to sleep to-night?”
The boy waved his hand toward the hills surrounding the little town.
“Here,” said Cameron, emptying his tobacco pouch into the boy's hand. “I will tell my squaw that Onawata's son is not ungrateful, that he remembered her kindness and has paid it back to me.”
For the first time a smile broke on the grave face of the Indian. He took Cameron's hand, laid it upon his own heart, and then on Cameron's.
“You' squaw good—good—much good.” He appeared to struggle to find other words, but failing, and with a smile still lingering upon his handsome face, he turned abruptly away and glided silent as a shadow into the starlit night. Cameron watched him out of sight.
“Not a bad sort,” he said to himself as he walked toward the hotel. “Pretty tough thing for him to come here and give away his dad's scheme like that—and I bet you he is keen on it himself too.”
CHAPTER XVIII
AN OUTLAW, BUT A MAN
The news brought by the Indian lad changed for Cameron all his plans. This cattle-raid was evidently a part of and preparation for the bigger thing, a general uprising and war of extermination on the part of the Indians. From his recent visit to the reserves he was convinced that the loyalty of even the great Chiefs was becoming somewhat brittle and would not bear any sudden strain put upon it. A successful raid of cattle such as was being proposed escaping the notice of the Police, or in the teeth of the Police, would have a disastrous effect upon the prestige of the whole Force, already shaken by the Duck Lake reverse. The effect of that skirmish was beyond belief. The victory of the half-breeds was exaggerated in the wildest degree. He must act and act quickly. His home and his family and those of his neighbors were in danger of the most horrible fate that could befall any human being. If the cattle-raid were carried through by the Piegan Indians its sweep would certainly include the Big Horn Ranch, and there was every likelihood that his home might be destroyed, for he was an object of special hate to Eagle Feather and to Little Thunder; and if Copperhead were in the business he had even greater cause for anxiety.