“The Lord only knows!” he said.
“Well, my business presses all the more,” said Cameron. “I'm going after this Sioux. Jerry is already on his trail. I suppose you cannot let me have three or four men? There is liable to be trouble and we cannot afford to make a mess of this thing.”
“Jerry came in last night asking for a man,” replied the Sergeant, “but I could not spare one. However, we will do our best and send you on the very first men that come in.”
“Send on half a dozen to-morrow at the very latest,” replied Cameron. “I shall rely upon you. Let me give you my trail.”
He left a plan of the Ghost River Trail with the Sergeant and rode to look up Dr. Martin. He found the doctor still in bed and wrathful at being disturbed.
“I say, Cameron,” he growled, “what in thunder do you mean by roaming round this way at night and waking up Christian people out of their sleep?”
“Sorry, old boy,” replied Cameron, “but my business is rather important.”
And then while the doctor sat and shivered in his night clothes upon the side of the bed Cameron gave him in detail the history of the previous evening and outlined his plan for the capture of the Sioux.
Dr. Martin listened intently, noting the various points and sketching an outline of the trail as Cameron described it.
“I wanted you to know, Martin, in case anything happened. For, well, you know how it is with my wife just now. A shock might kill her.”