“What’s the use of jawing so much?” put in Sam Randall. “Larry doesn’t want to back out.”
“You chaps look as if you were able to take care of yourselves,” said Farr, “and there isn’t much danger as long as you don’t wander too far away from the settlements or Indian villages. But as for your finding out anything about Jed Warren!”—he laughed—“sounds rather like a joke to me.”
“I sort o’ think it does,” drawled Larry.
“Your sort of thinks make me smile,” grumbled Tom.
“I believe in action—not words,” laughed Dave Brandon. “Wake me up, fellows, when it’s time to start.”
“It’s time now,” cried Dick Travers, jumping to his feet. “Let’s saddle up, boys, and hit the trail.”
“Where for?” asked one of the troopers.
“Sergeant Erskine told me there is a Cree village a good many miles to the northwest of here,” answered Bob Somers, “and as he said Jed Warren passed that way we thought we’d take it in and interview the chief.”
“Indians!” mused Larry, reflectively.
“Oh, you needn’t be afraid, son,” laughed Cole. “There isn’t anything fierce or warlike about ’em; though years ago, before the herds of buffalo had given place to long-horned cattle, they used to have some fierce mix-ups with the Sioux and Blackfeet.”