"Guess there's only one damn-fool outfit on this trail—hereabouts——"
The Indian went on smoking, and nearly a minute passed before he shot a quick, sidelong glance at his white friend.
"No. Two," he said; and the inevitable two fingers were thrust up again before Leo's eyes.
It was the white man's turn to pause before replying now.
"Two?" he said, half incredulously.
The Indian nodded, and again held up two fingers.
"How d'you know?" Leo's question came sharply.
"Smoke," returned the Indian; and his one hand described a series of circles upwards.
"You mean—a camp fire? Where?"
Leo was more than interested.