“That greedy half-breed ought to be made to walk the plank, that’s what!  Just to think of the nerve of him chasing the genuine dyed-in-the-wool chief out into the cold and taking his place!  Why, he’s a usurper, that’s the truth!  And look here, Frank, didn’t you hear what Mr. Mabie said about a fellow named Pierre La Motte?”

“I must have been away at the time.  What did he say?” asked Frank eagerly.

“Why, there was a detachment of the sheriff’s posse at the ranch house just before we came, looking for that same fellow.  Seems that he’s wanted badly for something or other.”

“Hurrah!  That’s just what I was hoping would happen.  We can put them wise about Pierre, and they’ll go after him.  Then, perhaps, as old Running Elk says, when the man with the smooth tongue has gone away forever, the Crees will send and beg their chief to return, and forgive the past.  It’s all right!  I’ll bring him here to see you.”

But Running Elk had already learned that another stranger was in camp, and even then he was approaching, looking considerably embarrassed, for he feared it might be Mr. Mabie himself.

However, he was soon set at his ease.  What Frank had to say about the bad half-breed also gave him new pleasure.

“Not wait long now,” he said, nodding his head sagely, while his beady eyes fairly glittered with satisfaction, as in imagination he saw his hated foe being taken away from the Cree village by the much-feared sheriff’s posse.

CHAPTER XVIII

AN INVITATION TO COME OUT

“About time those boys were showing up, eh, Bluff?”

“There they come now, Mr. Mabie, and—­Jerusalem!”

“What ails you now?” asked the stockman, coming out of the tent.

“They’ve got an old Indian in tow, as sure as you live!” cried Bluff.

“Where is he?  I’ve just been wanting to get an Indian picture the worst way.  Show him to me, please!” And Will came crawling hastily forth, of course clutching his beloved camera in his hand.

“H’m!  I guess I know that old buck.  It’s Running Elk, the chief of the Crees.  Something must have happened out of the usual order,” said the ranchman.

When he learned what Frank had to say Mr. Mabie proved himself just such a man as the others had believed him to be.  He advanced to the Indian, who was standing there in stoical silence, with his blanket thrown over his shoulder, and held out his hand.

“I’m glad to meet you again, Running Elk, and sorry to hear about your trouble.  But it will soon be all right.  I’ll see to it that the authorities learn about Pierre, and they’ll get him before long.  In the meantime, I’m going to give you a letter to my foreman.  You take your little party to the ranch, and they’ll see to it that you have plenty to eat until I come back home,” he said.

The chief shook his head sadly.