As Tug came up Si-wash rose and clubbed the dogs cordially. In a moment they had resumed their places beyond the fire circle, and, squatting on their haunches, licked their lips and yawned indifferently.
"Tug!"
Audie was on her feet staring at the apparition of the man she had believed was even now nearing the coast.
Nor did the man's usual ironical smile fail him.
"Sure. Didn't you guess I'd get around after—what has happened?"
Audie eyed him blankly as he waited for her to speak. The Indian, with his eyes fixed upon the fire, had not stirred from his seat. For the moment he was forgotten by these white people. He moved now. It was a slight movement. Very slight. He merely thrust one of his lean hands inside his furcoat.
His movement was quite unnoticed by the others, and as Audie stared, quite at a loss for words, the man went on—
"Well? He's got away with it. Maybe you're—satisfied."
Tug's smile was unequal to the task. The cold rage under it made its way into his eyes. And as she listened a curious change crept into Audie's eyes, too. Si-wash, with his attention apparently on the fire, was yet quite aware of the change in both, and his hand remained buried in the bosom of his furcoat.
Audie had suddenly become very cool. She pointed at the box which had been Leo's seat.