ou off to be burned at the stake. I followed as well as
I could, bent on rescuing you at the peril of my life, to meet up with a
reception like this."

Frank was compelled to laugh at the look of evident disgust that came
over the countenance of his comrade.

But when Jerry had heard all his chum knew concerning the little band
of wandering Crees, his generous heart was stirred at the thought of
their wrongs.

"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 hap