He awoke when they whistled. They ran up to him, afterwards bringing along the buckboard, into which they tenderly lifted him. The jolting of the cart was painful to him, but when at length they arrived at Birkenshaw's camp he declared that he wasn't at all badly hurt.
"Just leave me alone, boys," he said, "I don't want you ter make any fuss over me. There's nothing serious the matter—a few bruises, a sprained ankle, a kinder gen'ral shakin' up; that's all. I shall be ready to go with the Express again before Jim Thurston, even now."
"No occasion ter worry any 'bout the Express, Kiddie," said Abe Harum, massaging the injured ankle with embrocation. "I'm notionin' ter take a spell at it myself fer a while, a kinder change for me, see?—good as a holiday. Besides, thar's two individuals I'm anxious ter meet. One of 'em's the rooster as palmed off that rotten saddle on you. The other's Broken Feather. You'd a legitimate chance of puttin' his light out, Kiddie. Nobody e'd have blamed you any if you'd aimed at a vital section of his anatomy; but you let him off with little more'n a scratch. And that ambush was all planned. Rube here's just hungerin' an' thirstin' ter tell you all about Broken Feather's friendly call along at your woodland cabin while he knew you was absent. Ain't that so, Rube?"
"Yes," Rube answered, coming forward to Kiddie's side.
Rube then told the whole story of Broken Feather's surreptitious visit to the forest clearing, of the discovery that it was he who shot the poisoned arrow and of his threat that Kiddie would never come back.
"So you see, Kiddie," supplemented Abe Harum, "the skunk meant ter do you in. When he quitted the clearin', 'fore the hound struck his trail, he went right away ter put his rascally plan into operation. He an' his braves lay in wait for you ter gallop along. As I remarked before, it's a pity you didn't plant that bullet of yours where it would sure be fatal. It's your way, I know. You'd sooner cripple than kill. You show mercy even to a Injun—even to your deadliest enemy. An' Broken Feather's your enemy. You're what's called hereditary enemies, if I knows the meaning of the term."
"That's so, Abe," said Kiddie. "His father, Eye-of-the-Moon, shot my mother dead. It was Eye-of-the-Moon who killed my father, Buckskin Jack, in the Custer fight. On the other hand, it was my maternal grandfather, Spotted Tail, who killed Eye-of-the-Moon in their duel on horseback that I've so often told you about. And now it seems Broken Feather and I are at enmity."
"Yes," put in Gideon Birkenshaw, "but I ain't figgerin' as Broken Feather's takin' heredity inter consideration; not a whole lot. He don't keer a brass button who his father killed, or who killed his father. 'Cordin' ter Redskin reckonin' they've all gone on the long trail to the Happy Huntin' Grounds, an' they're no longer objec's in the scen'ry. Broken Feather's got his own pussonal reasons fer enmity agin your lordship. He knows as you're a long sight cleverer'n he is as an all-round scout; he's some afraid o' your cleverness. He knows you're wealthy; he covets your wealth. He knows you're honest; an' the one pusson as a rogue most dislikes is the man who acts allus on the straight. Moreover, Kiddie, you've already got the better of Broken Feather on several occasions, an' he ain't liable ter forget it."
"Gee!" exclaimed Rube Carter. "Never know'd th' Old Man make sich a long an' logical oration in me life before!"
"You've got yer own remedy, however," resumed Gideon. "It's agin th' law fer Injuns ter come outer their reservations, same as Broken Feather an' his braves have been doin' lately. The hull thing 'ld be stopped if you'd only appeal t' th' law fer pertection."