“All right,” said Cameron, following close upon his heels.
The morning broadened into day, but they made no pause till they had left behind them the open timber and gained the cover of the forest where the underbrush grew thick. Then Jerry, finding a dry and sheltered spot, threw himself down and stretched himself at full length waiting for Cameron's word.
“Tired, Jerry?” said Cameron.
“Non,” replied the little man scornfully. “When lie down tak' 'em easy.”
“Good! Now listen! Copperhead is on his way to meet the Blackfeet, but I fancy he is going to be disappointed.” Then Cameron narrated to Jerry the story of his recent interview with Crowfoot. “So I don't think,” he concluded, “any Blackfeet will come. Copperhead and Running Stream are going to be sold this time. Besides that the Police are on their way to Kananaskis following our trail. They will reach Kananaskis to-night and start for Ghost River to-morrow. We ought to get Copperhead between us somewhere on the Ghost River trail and we must get him to-day. Where will he be now?”
Jerry considered the matter, then, pointing straight eastward, he replied:
“On trail Kananaskis not far from Ghost Reever.”
“Will he be that far?” inquired Cameron. “He would have to sleep and eat, Jerry.”
“Non! No sleep—hit sam' tam' he run.”
“Then it is quite possible,” said Cameron, “that we may head him off.”