Mr. Brown. "We
shall have to have some more, Tom."

"Yes, I'll cook some more for you. Parched corn is good, too. The
Indians like that. You have to wait until the ears are nearly ripe for
that, though, and the kernels dried."

"Aren't you going to eat any, Tom?" Bunny asked, as he took the ear the
bigger boy handed him.

"Oh, yes, I'll have some now, if you've had all you want."

"Well, maybe I'll eat more," said Bunny.

"And I want another," put in Sue.

"There's plenty here," said Tom, as he began to eat. Almost as he spoke
there was a crackling of the leaves and sticks behind the embers of the
roast-corn party, and before any one could turn around to see what it
was a voice spoke:

"White folks make heap good meal same as Indians."

"That's right, Eagle Feather," called back Tom, who did not seem to be
so much taken by surprise as did the others. "Come and have some. What
brings you here?"

"Eagle Feather lose him horse," was the answer. "Come look for him.
Maybe you hab?" and he squatted down beside the campfire and accepted a
roasted ear that Tom handed him.

"What does this mean about Eagle Feather's horse being _here_?" asked
Mr. Brown.

"Me tell you 'bout a minute," answered the Indian, gnawing away at the
corn.

CHAPTER XX

FUN IN THE ATTIC

Bunny Brown looked at his sister Sue, and she looked at him. What could
it mean--so many things being taken away? First Bunny's train of cars,
then Sue's electric-eyed Teddy bear. Now Eagle Feather's horse was
missing and he had come to Camp Rest-a-While to look for it, though why
the children could not understand. Tom was kept busy roasting the ears
of corn, and passing them around. Eagle Feather ate three without saying
anything more, and would probably have taken another, which Tom had
ready for him, when Mr. Brown asked:

"Well, Eagle Feather, what is your trouble? Is your horse really gone?
And if it is, why do you think it is here? We don't have any horses
here. All our machines go by gasolene."

"Me know all such," replied the Indian. "Little wagon make much
puff-puff like boy's heap big medicine train. No horse push or pull 'um.
Eagle Feather hab good horse, him run fast and stop quick, sometimes,
byemby, like squaw, Eagle Feather fall off. But horse good--now somebody
take. Somebody take Eagle Feather's horse."

"Maybe he wandered away," said Mr. Brown. "Horses often do that you
know, when you tie them in the woods where flies bite