he walls of
the canyon where they had seen the three Indians earlier in the
forenoon. Whether it was reasonable to expect to find them, or rather
the thief, there, would be hard to say, but Jack did find the one for
whom he was looking.

Half the intervening distance was passed, when he turned his head and
said in an excited undertone to his companion:

"He's just ahead, and as sure as I live the thief is Motoza!"

Before Fred, slightly at the rear, could gain sight of the Indian, Jack
broke into a lope and called:

"Hold on there, Motoza! You have something that belongs to me."

The dusky vagrant was alone and walking at a moderate pace from the
youth. Although he did not look around until hailed he must have known
he was followed, but he stopped short and wheeled about with a wondering
expression on his painted face.

There could be no mistake by Jack Dudley, for Motoza was carrying two
Winchesters, one in either hand, and a glance enabled the youth to
recognize his own property.

"Howdy, brother?" asked Motoza, with the old grin on his face.

Jack was too angry to be tactful. He continued his rapid strides, and as
he drew near reached out his hand.

"Never mind how I do; give me my rifle."

But with the fingers of Jack almost on the weapon, Motoza shifted his
hand backward, so that the gun was held behind his body. He did not
stir, but continued grinning.

"What do you mean?" demanded Jack, his face flushed, and his anger
greater than before; "didn't you hear me ask for my gun?"

"Whooh! brother frow way gun--me pick him up--he mine."

"I threw it down so as to have a better chance of getting away from the
grizzly bear; I intended to pick it up again. I know you are a great
thief, Motoza, but you can't steal that Winchester from me; hand it
over!"

And Jack extended his hand again; but the Sioux persisted in keeping the
weapon behind him, though his own was in front, where the lad might have
been tempted to snatch it from his grasp.

The youth was fast losing his self-command. He had learned the character
of this vagrant from Hazletine, and it was plain that he meant to retain
the valuable weapon, while Jack was equally determined he should not.

"I tell you for the last time to give me my gun! _Do you hear?_"

The demand was made in a loud voice and accompanied by a threatening
step toward the Indian, who showed no fear. The grin, however, had left
his face, and he recoiled a step with such a ti