But few Indians were to be seen now, and the hunter joined a small group standing near the lodge wherein slept Lina Aiken. The savages noticed him and proceeded with their conversation. The expression on the Crow’s face told them that he was a true mute, for they said words designed to startle him, but without effect.
“The Plattes will take the pale boys to-morrow,” said one Indian. “We do not want them. We will say that Kenoagla killed Red Eagle, whether he did or not, and his blood will satisfy our people.”
It was agreed among the conspirators that, guilty or innocent, Tom Kyle should die on the morrow, and it was evident that none of the conspirators believed him guilty. They argued that he dared not slay Red Eagle, when the chief had been a professed friend, and they could not tell what kind of rifle George Long might have used while in the trapper’s hut.
After a while the group dispersed, and the visitor returned to his hut, or lodge.
Half an hour later the door of Tom Kyle’s prison opened slowly. It was opened by one of the guards, and an instant later the renegade came forth unbound.
“Where’s the girl?” he asked, in a low tone.
“At the corral.”
“Good! now let us hurry. If Kenoagla is found here to-morrow, he’ll be roasted or shot, as sure as fate.”
“And the braves who help their king.”