“You no hunter, no trapper. You look 'um tree, for make 'um lumber.”
The white had not begun as yet his explorations. He did not dare until the return of the logging crew or the passing of someone in authority at the up-river camp, for he wished first to establish in their minds the innocence of his intentions.
“What makes you think that, Charley?” he asked.
“You good man in woods,” replied Injin Charley sententiously, “I tell by way you look at him pine.”
Thorpe ruminated.
“Charley,” said he, “why are you staying here with me?”
“Big frien',” replied the Indian promptly.
“Why are you my friend? What have I ever done for you?”
“You gottum chief's eye,” replied his companion with simplicity.
Thorpe looked at the Indian again. There seemed to be only one course.