"Trip comin' to an abrupt conclusion, eh?" queried Rube.
"That's about the size of it," nodded Kiddie. "The fine weather won't hold out much longer, and I guess there's a whole heap of letters waitin' for me to answer 'em."
"Well, anyhow, we've seen an' done a good deal, an' had a few adventures," Rube concluded, holding himself so that Kiddie might apply a fresh pad of lint and a new bandage to his wounded cheek.
Kiddie left the head-dress and other garments where Simon Sprott had placed them. But in the early morning Rube Carter awoke to see him wearing the doeskin robe and moccasins, and in the act of covering his head with the great war bonnet.
"What, changed your mind?" cried Rube. "Goin' ter be a chief after all?"
Kiddie did not answer. He had got the two long feathered streamers of the head-dress twisted behind his back, and was trying to disentangle without injuring them.
"Get dressed and go outside to watch the ceremony," he ordered. "There's a couch of buffalo robes near the door, and you won't need to limp very far."
When Rube went out, he found the open space in front of the principal lodges crowded with warriors and braves. They were all on foot, but half a dozen of them held as many chosen war horses, which were to be presented to the new chief. The war-chiefs and medicine men were seated by the totem pole in a half-circle, facing the crowd.
Suddenly they rose to their feet, and bowed as Kiddie strode forth from his lodge, looking extremely tall and dignified and handsome in his picturesque Indian dress.
Murmurs of admiration ran through the throng of waiting braves. Drums were beaten and minstrels gang a weird, crooning chant as he advanced.